Cassiopeia Meissa Lestrange Part II: The Hogwarts Years
by tibys
Summary: Please read part I first. This story follows Cassiopeia's journey from her time in the muggle world in her late childhood and her time at Hogwarts. She is trying to cope with the horrors of her childhood while becoming a functioning member of the wizarding world, free from the stigma of her parents. Deals with some dark themes, abuse, trauma, recovery, friendship, love
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Albus sat back in his chair, sighed tiredly and removed his glasses to rub his eyes when he heard the sharp rapping on his door. He had the very beginnings of a headache forming.

"Come in" he called, reluctantly putting his glasses back on to examine his visitor. He felt his head pound when he saw a very formidable Mrs Weasley march in. She threw a newspaper headline in front of him with a slap. He didn't need to look down to know what the particular headline was. He had read about it enough in her insistent owls; it appeared she had grown impatient with his non-responses.

"Where is she Albus?" very few people could intimidate Albus Dumbledore, the Weasley matriarch was one of them. It was why he had been postponing this conversation, and why he had never given her an answer via owl.

"I don't know Molly, they sent her away." The headache started to grow as she started to turn an angry shade of red.

"Well find her Albus. She needs us." She placed her hands on her hips indignantly.

"I wish it were so easy. The ministry sent her to the muggle world, to an orphanage, with a muggle alias." He sighed; he felt a pang of guilt as he took in the angry woman in front of him. It was his fault that the girl had left her care afterall.

"Well look at the records Albus." He felt every year as he gestured her to sit. She ignored him.

"They scrubbed the records Molly. I am afraid there is nothing we can do until she is ready to re-enter the muggle world, in four years."

Molly shook her head in angry denial, "there must be something we can do, she's all alone, in a world she doesn't understand."

Albus couldn't help the soft, sad smile that spread across his face as he looked at the woman across from him. She had only known the child for a few short weeks, and yet she had such a tremendous impact on the whole family.

"Even if we could find her Molly, you couldn't claim her. Only family can, its why they sent her away to begin with."

Molly wiped a tear, "Arthur mentioned that Ted Tonks has returned to work. If we could just convince his wife to—" She struggled for a word, "to just let her come with us." She finally finished.

Albus nodded, he had heard rumours that Andromeda and Ted Tonks had resurfaced, alive and with a very healthy girl.

"I'll see what I can do Molly. A meeting is in order at the very least." Albus said finally, "we'll be in touch."

Xxxx

Andromeda Tonks anxiously squeezed her husband's hand, and he gave her a sideways reassuring smile.

"It'll be alright 'Dromeda. We'll just see what he wants, we can leave whenever you want."

She nodded, a stray curl falling into her fact. "I don't want to burden your parents too much Ted, with Dora. She can be a bit of a handful." Ted smiled at his wife, and Andromeda paused, drinking in his face.

"I love you Ted Tonks."

His grin widened, "And I love you more Andromeda Tonks. We can get through anything together"

The knot that was tying itself in Andromeda's stomach loosened at his words, she wasn't alone in this, "Together." With a final squeeze they turn and entered the room.

Albus Dumbledore had requested their presence to talk about an important familial matter, but he had refused to elaborate any more on the matter by owl. Instead he suggested they speak in person, and that the Weasley's would also be present, as interested parties in this mystery matter.

So here they found themselves, entering a private dining room at the Leaky Cauldron pub in Diagon Alley. True to his word, Albus Dumbledore was seated next to two other wizards, both with bright ginger hair. Andromeda knew of the Weasleys by reputation, but had never spoken to them. Ted knew Arthur Weasley only in passing, from the ministry. The two men never really spoke but were friendly.

"Welcome Mr and Mrs Tonks, it is good to see you so well, for a while we had assumed the worst." Dumbledore rose from his chair to address the couple.

Andromeda nodded uncertainly, and Ted spoke, sensing his wife's discomfort. "We are as well as can be, and happy to be back in the wizarding world. And relieved our daughter will grow up in a peaceful world Professor."

Neither Ted nor Andromeda had ever really spoken to Albus Dumbledore. They never had reason to. Until now it seemed.

"Please, call me Albus" Dumbledore responded.

"Albus," it sounded ridiculous to her ears to address one of the world's most powerful wizards, her former headmaster, by his first name.

"You suggested this," she grimaced, " _familial_ matter couldn't be discussed by owl." She wanted this meeting over as quickly as possible, knowing nothing good could ever come from her family.

"Ah, straight to the point then." He waved his wand and a pot of tea and five cups appeared as he gestured for the Tonks to have a seat at the table.

"I trust you know the Weasleys?" he asked politely.

The couple nodded, "in passing." Ted said kindly, smiling at Arthur.

"Molly and Arthur Weasley, Andromeda and Ted Tonks" Albus said helpfully, making himself a cup of tea. "This matter involves them just as much as yourselves," he paused, putting three sugars into his tea.

"Tea?" he offered kindly

"You are stalling Albus" Mrs Weasley scolded tersely.

"Ah-" Albus paused, delicately depositing his sugar spoon on his tea saucer. He was stalling. He had been stalling since Molly Weasley had burst into his office days ago, waving the paper detailing the Lestrange's sentence in front of him. He had been avoiding her for at least a week previous to that, when the Lestrange's were arrested. He told himself he was simply busy, with the end of the war, final loose ends to be tied up, and important matters to attend to. But he knew he was stalling because he was uncertain about the child's future, and because he felt guilty about his role in her unfortunate familial reunion. He was stalling because when he found out what they had done to her at the ministry, when he heard they had destroyed the paper trail, he legitimately feared the wrath of the Weasley matriarch. Alas, there was no more time to stall.

He turned to Andromeda, and said very seriously "it's about your sister's child Mrs Tonks."

There was a beat silence as everyone waited for Andromeda to process what Albus had said.

"What in the world—" she paused, "What does Narcissa's child have to do with me?" her head spun, she knew Lucius Malfoy was on trial, but Narcissa wasn't. Albus smiled at her sadly, and the knot in her stomach tightened with dread.

"Not Narcissa." Andromeda's mind raced, quickly taking in the implications of the statement, if not Cissy then that left…

"Bella." She sat back, stunned, slipping into her old nickname. Albus nodded, confirming her guess.

"You're telling me, Bellatrix" she swallowed thickly, "had a child?"

"A beautiful little girl, she'd be about eight years old now, or almost eight." It was Molly Weasley who spoke this time.

Ted looked at his wife in concern, she was grasping his hand painfully and he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers. Andromeda paled as she looked between the Weasleys and Dumbledore in confusion.

"You know her child?" she asked weakly.

"The Weasleys rescued her when she ran away from her mother. Her name is Cassiopeia Meissa Lestrange." Albus said gently, frowning at Andromeda in concern. He pushed a cup of sugary tea across the table to her, which Ted picked up and place in his wife's free hand.

"Drink Dromeda, take your time."

She nodded, thinking. She never imagined Bellatrix being the motherly sort; she was always so wild, so free, and so ambitious. She bucked the system, and pressed the boundaries of the roles their parents expected them to place in society. Only Narcissa fit the mould of the perfect, beautiful, pure-blooded housewife. Bellatrix was always headstrong and outspoken and fiercely independent. Andromeda of course knew she had gotten married, but she always assumed it was a sham, to appease their parents. She couldn't believe that she had settled down enough to actually have a child. And what would such a child be like? Bellatrix had been fanatical, and her time with the Death Eaters fed her cruelty and sadism. She knew her crimes, she knew what she had done to that poor couple, and she wondered how any child of hers would be like.

"She ran away?" she asked finally, trying to figure out how the Weasleys, the most renowned blood traitors out there, ended up with the daughter of two of the most infamous Death Eaters.

"She was a stick, poor thing, terrified of everything and everyone. She bonded with our second oldest son, Charlie, he's the one who found her see" together the Weasleys recounted their experiences with the young Lestrange. Andromeda took it all in numbly, and she felt nauseous when she dwelled on the niggling feeling in the back of her head.

"What does this all have to do with me?" she finally asked, fearing the response.

Albus explained the situation with her current location, lost in the muggle world with no name. "But the day will come, in four years, when she will re-join the wizarding world. And when she does, she will need a guardian." Albus said seriously, "the Weasleys are willing to take her in if need be but they need familial consent. Mrs Malfoy must know about her niece, and we are worried that when she comes of age and re enters this world, that the Malfoy's will take immediate claim."

"Narcissa may be full of herself, but she would never harm a child." Andromeda said automatically, registering their insinuation.

"Its not Mrs Malfoy we are worried about, its ideologues like Lucius Malfoy we are worried about. She already has some very confusing views about magical supremacy, something that will only be exacerbated surely by her time in the muggle world. We want her to live in a loving and safe and friendly environment." Arthur Weasley said stiffly. Andromeda took a large sip of her rapidly cooling tea; she knew where this was headed.

"You want me to take her in." could she do it? Would she? Bellatrix was the reason why she had to go into hiding in the first place, and now they wanted her to raise her child? It was too much.

"Only if you want to take her in, otherwise we would like you to sign the paperwork so the Weasleys can take over legal guardianship." She nodded, beginning to understand what they wanted her to do.

"Can I at least think about it?" she asked, anxiety clawing at her chest, it was too much to process at once, and for such a big decision, "and talk to my husband about it?" she added, glancing at Ted, who nodded reassuringly at her.

"Of course, it is a few years away as of yet until the decision has to be made." Albus said as he gave her hand a quick re-assuring pat.

The meeting ended not long after that, with Ted and Andromeda making their excuses. They decided to take the long way to Ted's parents house, located in south London. They walked in silence. They sat on the underground in silence. Ted held his wife's hand the whole way, giving her space and time to process the whole situation.

"What do you think Ted?" he looked at his wife; she looked older than her years, and tired. He had been mulling over the issue himself, the whole journey.

"I think we should help her." He said finally.

Andromeda looked at him in confusion, "But her mother is the reason why we had to leave everything behind Ted. She vowed to hunt you down and kill you."

He nodded, "indeed. Her mother, 'Dromeda, not her. From what the Weasley's told us, it sounds like she is just as much victim of her mother as we were. She's been stuck with her for years, and now thrown into a world that is not her own, completely alone, lost, and without guidance." He shook his head, understanding quite keenly what types of pain the child must be currently suffering, being thrown in the muggle world without any experience.

"Everyone needs a family." He finished softly.

Andromeda stared at him in open shock, "she will have a family with the Weasley's Ted, you heard them." She said finally.

Ted smiled at his wife, "I think we should meet her, you should meet her, when the time comes, and decide for yourself. Either way, there is nothing we can do now, except wait." They stopped, a block away from his parents house.

Andromeda squeezed his hand briefly, the shock in her eyes turning slowly into adoration, "what would I do without you Ted?" she asked softly.

Ted simply smiled and responded slyly "you would be completely clueless about the magic of the muggle world, and all the pizza contained therein." She laughed, feeling immediately lighter. The decision would come, eventually, but not today. Today she could enjoy being with her husband, her daughter, in a safe world.


	2. Chapter 2: Smashing on the Cabinet

Cassiopeia's eyes were glued to the screen, her hands deftly moved the joystick, and the bleep bleep bleep of the arcade game was beating in tempo with her heartbeat. She was so close, she could almost taste sweet victory, and her mind was calm, focussed, in the zone. She let out a satisfied huff as she guided Pac-Man to a pair of cherries, which appeared next to a flashing white dot. The ghosts on the screen changed colour and ran away from her avatar. She hunted them ruthlessly, eating three before they could change back. She was on level 154, and out of lives, one more level and she will be the reigning champion in the whole town, no kid around here had ever gone to such heights of Pac Man, and she was vaguely conscious of the small crowd of kids that were gathered behind her, watching her play this epic game. A coin was sitting on the console; the kid next in line had been waiting a very long time for his turn. She already held the top five high score spots on this machine. She held the top five on every Pac Man machine at every arcade in town (a feat that sounded more impressive than it actually was, there were only three in town). But this, this was a new high for her. She had never beaten this level before.

The arcade was warm and she felt stuffy inside her school jumper, but she didn't dare take the time to remove it, lest she ruin her groove. Her stomach growled and she was fairly certain she should've been home hours ago. She wondered if it was dark outside, but couldn't hazard the risk to look. There, the final dots, her victory was almost complete. She vaguely heard someone call her name, not her real name, but the hideous one the muggles knew her by. She ignored whatever the commotion was, intent on finishing the level. She didn't notice the older kid angrily coming up to her until he grabbed her hand off the red plastic joystick and shoved her away from the machine.

"Oi, freak, I'm talking to you!" the boy shouted. Cassiopeia watched in horror as her game avatar got stuck at a wall and was quickly eaten by a ghost. The end game screen mocked her and the high score prompt snapped her out of her cold shock. She had spent hours working on that game, and it had been completely ruined by Nicholas bloody Bates. Hot anger flashed across her body and she launched herself with a shout of outrage at the older boy, taking him by surprise and causing him to stumble back a few steps.

The small crowd around the machine were split between dismay at the interrupted game, and interested glee at the brewing fight.

"What the hell Bates!" she slapped the older boys chest in time with her words.

He recovered quickly and shoved her back; "You did some of your freaky stuff to my sister Smith." He straightened his beaten leather coat and pointed an accusing finger at her, "She said you threatened her and now all her hair is falling out."

She couldn't help it, a smirk of amusement spread across her face. His sister was a particularly vain sort of creature who took an absurd amount of pride in her Farrah Fawcett hair. It must be killing her to have it falling out in what she hoped was large chunks. Smirking apparently wasn't a reaction the older boy appreciated, because with very little warning a fist connected solidly with her mouth. The tang of blood exploded across her taste buds as Cassiopeia grimaced with annoyance before turning back to the boy. Before she could retaliate the owner of the arcade made himself known by grabbing the boys shoulder and escorting him out of the arcade, berating him all the way.

"This isn't over Smith," he shouted over his shoulder, before he was bodily thrown out.

She wiped her mouth, quickly entered the initial CML into the arcade game and gathered up her belongings. It was indeed dark outside and she was definitely in trouble with her latest 'parents'. The arcade owner was back, looking at her disapprovingly, she was a regular customer at this particular venue, but looking at him now she figured she should maybe move on and take a small break from this particular arcade, she was lucky she had not been banned yet, as the small fights were a fairly common occurrence in her life.

"Alright Reggie, you don't need to say it, I'm leaving." She shouldered her bag and began her walk home.

It was a quiet night, a fresh breeze caused her to pull her school blazer closed and she wrapped her arms around herself. She opened her book bag, pulling a battered cassette player out and searched for her hat. She cursed when she realised it was still in her school locker, she would have to make do without it that night. She clicked on the her tape player, slipped on the headphones, turned the volume all the way up, and began her walk. The arcade was halfway between her school and her current group home, and she passed the time walking home by examining the stars up above. She searched out the Black namesakes, Sirius, Bellatrix, Pollux, and she searched out her middle name, Meissa. It had only been a year since she had been forced out of the wizarding world, but it seemed almost a lifetime ago.

It was hard at first to adjust to the muggle world. Though they had no magic in the traditional sense, their world was run on their own special brand of magic, things like engines, electricity, and radio waves. She found it terrifying, and later fascinating. Everything in the muggle world was powered by science. Instead of Dark Lords and wizarding wars, they had the cold war and nuclear holocaust to worry about. Everything had an explanation in the muggle world, and a whole branch of study was dedicated to it. In fact it was her favourite subject in school, physics. She was also particularly interested in how the electrical parts worked in practice. Luckily there was a teacher at the school, Mr Su who was a font of knowledge of all things technological. So much so he started an afterschool club dedicated to just that. They deconstructed computers, programmed games, and played with HAM radios. There were a few kids in the afterschool club, though none would speak to her directly. Despite this she enjoyed the weekly meetings greatly. In fact it was the only thing she looked forward to in her miserable muggle life.

Her reverie was interrupted as a car pulled up along side her and the Bates boy jumped out of the passenger side door. She glared at him, shoving her headphones off so they hung instead around her neck.

"Sod off Bates, or else your precious hair will be next." She was tired, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to the group home, brew herself a nice strong cup of coffee, and catch up with some reading.

"Are you threatening me?" he knocked her shoulder again.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Is that the best you can do?" she drawled, coming to a stop in front of him and casually putting her hands in her trouser pockets.

"The way I see it, you're the one bleeding and I am fine." He mocked before moving forward quickly and placing another blow on her stomach. She doubled over at the impact, the breath knocked soundly out of her.

"you call that a punch?" she wheezed, "Pathetic. Old Mrs Slater could do better." She coughed, referencing their octogenarian neighbour.

She was ready for his next punch; her left hand hand grabbing his fist as she twisted slightly out of the way while her right hand brought a knife up against his arm. She cut him quickly, deep enough that it would hurt, but not enough to seriously injure him. At first he didn't feel the cut, it wasn't until he saw the blood that he let out a horrified cry as he quickly jumped back. He looked at his arm in shock and disbelief through his now cut jacket and saw the red staining spreading across his shirtsleeves. He looked up at her in panic; his head swam as he watched her delicately flick his blood off her blade. She made eye contact with him and raised her eyebrows.

"Who's the one bleeding now Bates" she sneered.

"You're a fucking psycho." His voice was small and panic lined it, "ill get you for this, freak." She smirked when she saw the unmistakable shine in his eyes; she knew he was holding back tears.

"Run along little boy, and go cry to your friends." She flicked her knife shut and pocketed it, put her headphones back on, and continued walking as if nothing had happened. He let out a whimper before jumping back into the idling car and speeding away.

She sighed deeply; the muggle children did try their best to bully her, to torture her, and to beat her. Most people in her situation would have cracked a long time ago, but they just didn't understand that everything they threw at her was small time in comparison to Bellatrix Lestrange. She fingered the knife in her pocket, remembering the lessons her mother taught her about proper and improper knife use. These muggles had no idea what she was really sparing them in her retaliation, and that knowledge made her feel both sad and ashamed of her past. She was a freak in this world, and was wholly undeserving of friends. She knew it and they could sense it.

Xxx

As expected she was called into the head teachers office the next morning. She sat down heavily, glaring at all the occupants in the room. She had several meetings such as this one, at least a few times a year. She nodded at her legal guardian from the group home, who was currently giving her a murderous glare. "Alright PC Brookes." She flashed a charming smile at her least favourite police officer woman, she answered the smile with a flat stare. Nicholas Bates sat heavily in a chair, his trademark leather jacket was gone, and a long bandage ran along his right arm. He glowered at her lowly, and seated next to him were two very upset adults that she guessed were his parents.

"So that's the little psycho that tried to kill our son" the woman started. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes before taking a seat.

"You're bag miss Smith." With another exaggerated eye roll she handed her bag over to the police constable.

"Anything in here that could hurt me?" she asked, unzipping it. Cassiopeia sat back and smirked, "Hurt you PC Brookes? Like what? I have some sharp pencils? A compass." She said innocently. PC Brookes gave her a look of annoyance and proceeded with her search. "Mr Bates over there has a very interesting story about you Miss Smith." The constable continued her search of the bag. "He seems to think it was you that gave him that nasty cut on his arm. He says you attacked him, unprovoked."

Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows and glanced sideways at the older boy. "Up, empty your pockets Miss Smith." She rolled her eyes again standing to allow the officer search her person. She had left her knife at home, tucked safely under a loose floorboard. It only appeared on her person when she was feeling an extreme emotion, when her magic flared up.

"You're being very quiet Miss Smith. Write down your locker number and combination." The constable gave Cassiopeia her notebook. "Nothing to say for yourself?"

"Of course not, she's guilty. That psychopath should be expelled." It was Mr Bates this time.

Cassiopeia sighed loudly, attempted to blow some of her unruly curls out of her face, "I am nine PC Brookes," she drawled. "Nicholas Bates is fourteen, he is six inches taller than me, and is head and shoulder taller than me." She stated simply, "besides, he doesn't even go to this school anymore." The constable sighed before handing her back her bag.

"Instead of interrupting my education for this, can I suggest that I go back to class. Search my locker, if you find anything incriminating, please come and fetch me but I have exams next week." She shouldered her bag and glanced at the head teacher, waiting for permission. The man was an angry shade of red, he looked at the PC questioning, seeing her resigned nod he jerked his head. She threw a smirk at the Bates, ignoring their outraged protests and went back to her maths class. She really did have an exam next week.


	3. Chapter 3: Some Good, Some Bad

The group home had tried many different ways to punish Cassiopeia, and had never found a way that truly upset her. They tried first to ground her, she didn't have friends to hang out with anyways, and so that was no real loss to her. Then they had cut her television privileges. She had shrugged at that as well, content with her books. They tried to take away her non-schoolbooks, so instead she passed the time working ahead in her textbooks. They forbade her from going to the arcade, that had stung a bit, but not enough for her to really change her ways. The tried physical punishments and were disappointed at the relative ease she shrugged off the pain. They ignored her for a while, hoping her issues would sort themselves out, but they were always brought into her problems at school whenever she got into a fight, something that was a reasonably regular occurrence. They took away her bedding, denied her dinner, and tried to confiscate her cassette tapes. She only stoked their anger as no matter where they hid her tape player and cassettes she always found them within the day, listening to them as if nothing had happened. They gave up when she had somehow retrieved her beloved music after they locked it away in a bank security box. Nothing seemed to work with the girl, and there was little they could do to send her away to another group home.

It all seemed hopeless until one day they accidently discovered the one thing that served as a genuine punishment. They had run out of coffee and had simply forgotten to buy some more. They were not expecting how upset this would make their most unruly resident, but they were pleasantly surprised. It had certainly explained how they were going through so much coffee in the household; Cassiopeia had been stealing several cups a day from them. So as punishment for her latest indiscretion, they no longer stocked coffee in the house.

She was furious. And irritable. It had been two days since her caretakers started their latest punishment for her and she was ready to pull her hair out. She had a pounding headache, her hands shook, and worst of all, she was having trouble staying awake.

She had decided many years ago that sleep was her enemy. She tried to avoid it at all costs, and because of this, most nights she slept about three hours, four at the very most. She used the rest of her time tinkering with electronics, sneaking around the house, and reading. To sustain this, and to fight off the waves of exhaustion she drank coffee by the litre, strong, black, and double brewed if possible.

But now, without her beloved coffee, she was fighting exhaustion at every turn. She was dizzy, weary, and her brain felt heavy, dull. She needed her fix somehow, and she needed it very soon. She was trudging along the well-worn path to the school early one morning when she was struck with inspiration. There was only one person ahead of her on the path, Sarah Bates. Her hair was short, still recovering from her bout of hair loss half a year ago, and was styled very carefully to compensate for this fact. Sarah Bates was a very annoying girl who also happened to be quite wealthy. She knew for a fact that her parents gave her a large daily allowance to spend afterschool with her friends at around town.

Cassiopeia sped up, her burst of inspiration temporarily extinguishing her exhaustion, to catch up with the girl. She grabbed the girls shoulder and slammed her against the wall, "Give me your money Bates" Cassiopeia demanded. The girl looked near tears and with shaking hands quickly dug into her pocket as she quickly handed over a single five-pound note. Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows in surprise, it was more money than she honestly expected.

"Please don't hurt me" the girl flinched away from Cassiopeia, a few stray tears falling down her face. With a final shove she left the crying girl alone, pocketing the money and tried to ignore the niggling self-revulsion in the back of her mind. Sarah Bates had reacted to her the same way many people reacted to her mother.

She tried to distract herself from her unfortunate comparisons between her and her mother, after all that was why she needed coffee in the first place. Every time she closed her eyes, every time she fell asleep she was haunted by images of her early childhood. Her father sometimes played a role in her nightmares, he was cruel to her, but he was also mostly absent, preferring to pretend she didn't exist. Her mother played a much larger role, she was relived every ounce of pain her mother had piled on her, she was haunted by the screams of the victims she had helped her mother torture. She was tormented by her manic laugh, it echoed across her skull, and threatened to drive her to insanity. She had once craved her mother's love, but now she was more frightened of her memory, of her threat of never letting her go. She still had the silver bracelet, stuck on her wrist that would allow her mother to find her wherever she was. They had said she was going to prison for life, but she never knew the results of the trial, she never had any confirmation that she had gone away for life. She assumed the fact she was still in the muggle world was confirmation enough, but what if it wasn't a life sentence? Or what if she escaped? They didn't know her mother like she did, she was unstoppable.

The petrol station loomed ahead. She needed to get a hold on herself, and she needed some bloody coffee.

She entered the petrol station shop, sighing happily at the sight of an admittedly sad looking coffee machine in the corner. She grabbed the biggest cup they had and happily filled it up. She paused, thinking of her new found fortune, and decided to get another cup just in case.

"Mildred?" a puzzled voice called as she was paying for her purchases. She twitched at the ridiculous muggle name, but nonetheless turned to acknowledge the speaker. It was her favourite teacher, Mr. Su and he looked mildly confused and more than a little concerned.

"On your way to school? You're going to be late you know."

She pocketed the change from her purchases and took a large gulp of the coffee, she winced slightly, it was awful but it would do. The pair walked together the rest of the way to the school, Mr Su pushing the bicycle he rode into work every day, and her holding her coffees like a lifeline.

"Rough night?" he asked wryly, watching her dispose of one of the cups, now empty. She scowled, beginning to feel a little more herself as the caffeine took effect.

"Something like that," she muttered.

He paused, waiting for her to elaborate more, "exams?" he asked in feigned nonchalance. She shot him a sideways look and shrugged.

"You know Mildred," he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, "you can tell me, if you're having problems. At school or at home, or just in general." He smiled softly at her, "I might be able to understand better than you think."

She took a sip of her second coffee, studying him. He seemed sincere and a little sad. She mulled over his words, finding them ridiculous. How could he understand her problems? And yet, maybe it was because her recent caffeine deprivation, or maybe because her fears about her parents hovered so close to the surface of her mind, she relented a little bit.

"Nightmares." She said it quietly and he had to strain to hear her. He nodded, unsurprised.

"Of your birth parents?" he asked softly, the pair resumed the walk to the school. She gave him a quick glance in shock, how had he known?

He smiled at her sadly, "I had a sneaking suspicion, I had the same problem when I was younger." He fiddled with the bell on his bicycle. She nodded, drank more coffee, and looked down at the ground.

"I see my mother. Sometimes I think I'm just like her. Sometimes I do things—" she broke off, surprised at her own candor. She found she couldn't stop now that she started. "Do you know about genetics Mr Su?" she continued as he nodded, "I was reading about it in our biology textbook, and it says we inherit genes, traits from our parents. And sometimes I wonder—"

"If you are doomed to be the same." He finished the sentence for her. She nodded and looked at the ground, wondering why she was talking about this with him. He stopped them once more, put a hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look up at him.

"You've been reading ahead I see," he smiled as he saw the beginning of an embarrassed flush colour her cheeks. "You inherit some things from your parents, physical things like hair colour, eye colour, height, and such. But who you are as a person Mildred, that is all your choice. You can choose to be a different person from your parents. You can choose to be better than them, to have a good life despite them, and to reject their beliefs and actions. You are not doomed to become just like them, you are you." He squeezed her shoulder.

She thought through his words, took another sip of coffee, and mulled over the implications. She could be different from her mother, and it wasn't pre determined. She thought about the woman from the Wizengamot who refused to condemn her for her parent's crimes and wondered if this was the reason. Because she wasn't her parents. She was her own Lestrange.

"I think I understand." She wasn't certain all the implications were clear, but he had given her something to think about. They walked in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Mildred, if you ever feel like you are acting like your parents, think about how they made you feel with their actions. That's how you're making other people feel when you choose to follow their example. You can be better than them. You are better than them." They had reached the school now, and she was very nearly done with her second coffee.

"If you're still having coffee shortages, stop by my classroom, ill keep a pot on for you, so you can save your money. " They were at the metal rail where Mr Su busied himself locking up his bicycle. The first morning bell rang and there was a flurry of motion as students rushed to reach their homeroom classes.

"I've got to go Mildred, but if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Before he could move away her hand darted out to grab his arm.

"Thank you Mr Su. I—" she paused, uncertain, "er, thank you. For everything." She hid her face in her curls and darted off before he could respond. She felt warm, and an almost alien feeling blossomed in her chest and filled her throat. She swallowed thickly, she had only had this feeling with the Weasley's, on her last night with them. She finished off her coffee, shook her head, cursed her foolishness and rushed off to class.

Xxx

She had never confided in Mr Su again, but she thought often of his words. She made an effort to stop taking her anger and frustrations out on other students, she held her tongue when she would have previously mocked, and she didn't start fights anymore. That didn't mean that she was never in a fight again, far from it in fact. Many tried to start fights with her, and she made it a point to always finish them, quickly, decisively, and maybe a little ruthlessly. She may not want to be like her mother, but that didn't mean she had to be weak.

Unfortunate news came on her 10th birthday, she was being moved to another group home. It seemed her frequent run ins with the local police constabulary was cause for some concern amongst those muggles who made decisions. She scowled at the child service representatives, and at her now former legal guardians. They looked very pleased with themselves; they were finally rid of their most difficult resident.

She didn't have much to pack; all her worldly belongings could fit inside her school bag. Nearly all of her wardrobe consisted of school uniforms, she was told to leave those behind, so another child could use them.

Her previous legal guardians had been cold, but they hadn't been especially violent or neglectful. They had done the bare minimum to keep the children alive, and she didn't realise just how lucky she had been there until she arrived at her new home.

The government officials went so far as the front door with her, waiting for her new guardian to sign some documents, like she was an object being delivered. They left without so much as a backward glance.

She eyed the man in front of her suspiciously. He was tall, and might have once been in very good shape, however where there had once been muscles now there were pockets of flab, and he had a very large belly. Inside the house smelled like a brewery, the stale sharp tang of lager pierced the air and mingled with the dust and neglect of the house. Her previous home had been run down, but it was always clean. The entry way looked clean enough, and the pathway to the front sitting room looked acceptable. The kitchen door was ajar, and inside she saw the exact opposite, take away boxes littered across every available surface she could see, and cigarette butts were everywhere.

"Give me your bag." The man demanded, her hand tightened on the strap as she stared at him defiantly.

She gasped as a slap resounded against her skull; she stumbled a little under the force of it. He didn't ask again, he tore the bag out of her hands easily overpowering her.

He emptied the bags contents on the floor, a small pile of cassette tapes, a soldering iron, a few spare electrical parts, and her tape player. "The Ramones, The Cramps, Alice Cooper, Misfits, Dead Kennedys" he paused as he glanced at her, "Sex Pistols. All garbage, corrupting your mind and soul." He carefully opened every cassette box and very slowly, deliberately, pulled the magnetic tape out, tearing it, destroying it.

Her eyes widened in shock and a white hot flash of anger pulsed through her as she watched her music being destroyed. Her knife was in her hand and she was blindly rushing forward at him, desperate to stop him. Her anger turned to dismay when she found that not only was he ready for her, he seemed to have expected something of the sort. He grabbed her wrist twisting it painfully until the knife fell out of her hand harmlessly onto the floor. He continued twisting until her arm was painfully behind her back, before he slammed her down to the ground, winding her.

"They told me that you preferred knives." He replaced his hands with his knee in the centre of her back, pinning her to the floor. She huffed angrily and struggled beneath him.

"You lack discipline. That's something I can help you with. I own everything in my house, and that includes you, and everything you bring with you." He ground his knee deeper into her back. "This music is filth, and I wont have it under my roof."

Angry tears leaked out of her eyes as she fought wildly to get out from under his knee, and she watched helplessly as he methodically destroyed all of her music, one of her only lifelines. He stopped at the tape player, pocketing it instead of destroying it.

"I think I can get a few bob for this, don't you?" with a final warning pressure in her back he was suddenly off her, smiling darkly. "Your room is top of the stairs, first door to the left. I assume there is a bed empty in there." She dragged herself off the ground and glared at him, her breaths still coming out in angry gasps.

He laughed as he caught her eyeing the knife he still held in his hand, "I think ill be keeping a hold of this, for safekeeping." He slipped it into the pocket of his jogging bottoms before he wandered into the kitchen.

She growled as she heard the unmistakable pop of a can opening, and she could faintly hear his loud gulp of liquid. Reluctantly she grabbed her now empty bag, left her destroyed pile of tapes, and went to find her room.

There were two types of children in the group home, some who looked like ghosts, flighty and nervous. They hovered on the edges of the home, never in the open, and always ready to run. They obeyed all orders immediately, and rarely interacted with people. These were the children that were broken.

The other type of child in the home were the survivors, these children were vicious and preyed on those weaker broken children. They stole food, the best bedding, and hoarded the few possessions in the house like treasure. These were the children that worried Cassiopeia; these were the children she would have to dominate.

She knew immediately that she shared a room with one of the latter type of children, a survivor. Three sets of bunk beds were crammed in the room, pushed against the three walls. There was just enough space to open the door; each ladder was a step apart from each other.

The room smelled like unwashed bodies, and all but one bed was bare of blankets and pillows, they only had greying sheets, each stained lining the mattresses. Children cowered on four of the beds; they pushed themselves against the wall and hugged their knees. On the fifth bed, a top bunk, sat an older looking girl, she was wrapped in two blankets, and leant again the wall, using a pile of thin pillows as a rest.

The two girls eyed each other suspiciously, sizing each other up. She was maybe a few years older than Cassiopeia, she certainly looked like she had a height advantage, but she was also thin, frail, and Cassiopeia was healthy, suddenly feeling thankful for the adequate amount of food she received in her previous group home. She threw her bag on the unoccupied top bunk, next to the girl and slowly climbed up. She made a show of testing the bed's comfort, hiding her disgust at just how awful it felt and smelled, before gently resting her back against the wall and making eye contact with the survivor next to her.

"Give me your blanket and a pillow."

The girl sneered at the command, "and who the bloody hell do you think you are?" the girl asked incredulously, squaring her shoulders aggressively, defensively.

Cassiopeia gave her best impression of her mothers smile, "I'm the girl the authorities had to change the name of because of my notoriety. Not someone you want to mess with."

The girl wrapped herself tighter in her extra blankets and sniffed loudly in disdain. "Sounds like bollocks to me, if you want them, come and take them. If you dare."

And dare she did. She launched herself from her bed over to the girls, catching her by surprise with her tackle. The fight lasted less than five minutes, Cassiopeia was ruthless and to the point, incapacitating the girl quickly. She was correct, for now she was stronger than the girl, healthier. She was also rather pleased when she managed to steal the extra bedding without spilling blood on it. The room watched in silent shock and awe as Cassiopeia curled up that night with the only bedding available in the room, feigning asleep under the murderous glare of the now heavily bruised older girl.

It was in the middle of a nightmare about her mother when she felt cold bony fingers close around her neck. She gasped and flailed desperately, her dreams mixing with reality. The older girl was on her bed, straddling her chest, and was slowly squeezing her neck, tighter and tighter. Cassiopeia's chest tightened with anxiety and her vision was starting to go back, she slapped the girls face, pulled her hair, tried to do anything to get her to stop.

Just when she started to fear that she was genuinely about to die, something strange happened. The girl went rigid and then fell limp, falling over the side of the bed and onto the floor, screaming. Her body started to convulse, her eyes bulged, and her face turned red. Cassiopeia panted, taking ragged breaths, her heart was racing and she tried to figure out what was real and what was in her head. She looked over the side of the bed and saw the older girl that had attacked her was panting heavily, crying and cradling her arm close to her chest, seemingly coming out of whatever curse had overtaken her.

She closed her eyes, wiped the sweat off her forehead, and tried to take a few deep breaths, tried to centre her mind, tried to sort through reality and nightmare. It wasn't a mystery to her, what had happened to her roommate. She knew the Cruciatus curse inside out. She didn't intentionally cast it, but between her devastation with her music the day before, her earlier fight, and her nightmare, she must've unconsciously cast it. She peered over the side of her bed tiredly, and saw with some interest that the girl was cradling a burned arm. A burn that was in the shape of her handprint.

Nobody came to investigate the screams coming from the room.

Authors Note: Hi Guys, thanks for sticking through this so far, hope youre enjoying it. If you are, id love it if you could leave a review! Ive got one more chapter written for her time in the muggle world, then we can move on to her return to the wizarding world.


	4. Chapter 4: Turning Eleven

A/N Hi Guys, Hope you're enjoying this so far. I have no Beta so I apologize for any mistakes that are made, I am self editing- but well you know how it goes. I am catching up to where i've written to for this story, but i've just gotten over a tough block, so hopefully we can make it Hogwarts in two chapters time. As always, please leave a review if you have any comments or critiques. Also, something to remember, through this chapter, which gets a bit dark, and through the next chapter where we get a glimpse into the way she thinks, this is a girl who really has no experience in a normal loving family. Her whole childhood is defined by outward violence at worst, and willful neglect at best. She has issues to say the least.

It took almost a month for Cassiopeia to adjust to her new situation, a month to regroup, and to adapt. The first step towards that adjustment was finding a new tape player. She was annoyed when it didn't just appear in her room, as it always had in the past. She eventually gave up trying and settled for stealing another one from a busy charity shop.

The second thing she recovered was a knife. This was a little bit more difficult to replace, but she managed to steal one from the back of a hardware store. The manager had seen her and chased her a few blocks, but ultimately she lost him in an area of woodland near the town.

Her dominance amongst the other children had been relatively easy to secure after that first night. The girl she had cursed, Rebecca, had been one of the bigger bullies in the home. The other children left her alone, and they learned very quickly to never mention her nightmares. Her new legal guardian had a very casual disregard for everyone under his roof, and very rarely kept track of her comings and goings. As far as he was concerned, her being absent meant he had to spend even less money on food for the children.

Her new school had no afterschool electronics club; in fact it had no clubs at all. She preferred to spend as little time as possible in the group home, so she spent most of her time either at the library, reading about muggle magic or exploring the woods that surrounded the whole village. She found a small river and a few natural clearings in the woods. She went there so often that she started collecting spare pieces of scrap metal and wood from around the town and created her own little club house. She called it Castle Lestrange.

When the weather was warm enough she would stay up in her castle, huddled under a few stolen blankets and listening to music on her player. It wasn't long that she was spending all of her free time up in the woods, safe in the confines of her self built castle. She fantasised about future additions to the castle and on Wednesdays, the day before rubbish was collected, she would dig through skips around town late at night, hunting for prime building materials. She found an uneasy peace in life, so long as she kept out of trouble and stayed out of the way, her guardian would ignore her existence. She was free to do as she pleased, and it pleased her greatly to hide in the woods.

For a while, Cassiopeia felt at peace for the first time in her life.

It was only later she would realise that she wasn't destined to live a peaceful life. It all started one day after school. She had been eyeing a shiny brass bell from a ship at an expensive antique shop. She had been watching the owner of the shop; she watched his patterns, when he got lunch, and how he locked up every evening, puzzling over the best way to get it. Normally she wouldn't dream of stealing something so expensive, or something so well guarded, but it called to her like a siren. She might've resisted the call if the shop owner wasn't such a slight man, using a cane. She had heard stories about the man; he was well connected and apparently quite rich. He must've been to have a name like Gold, but she figured that if he was so rich, maybe he wouldn't miss a tiny bell so much.

She figured a simple grab and run would be the best way to steal the bell, and it never occurred to her that as she had spent weeks observing the antique broker, he had been observing her. She was so used to being ignored, and being stronger and faster than everyone that the thought of hiding her actions had never even occurred to her. She was many things, but at ten and three quarter years old she was not a criminal mastermind.

She walked into the shop one day, nonchalantly nodding at the shop owner who quirked an eyebrow and spoke quietly into a phone. She pretended to browse, running her hand over several of the shiny trinkets he had on display. Normally these would have fascinated her, but she had only eyes for the bell, gleaming on a shelf. She glanced over at the counter where the owner was before and frowned when she noticed he was no longer there. Maybe he had gone into the back to check some stock she thought. Excitable at the prospect, she darted forward, grabbed the bell, turned, and ran straight into the shop owner who was lurking behind her.

"And just where do you think you are going dearie?" he grunted from the impact.

Her heart raced, panicked and she frantically squirmed against his grip. Knowing the shop owner used a cane; she threw a few kicks at both his legs, hoping to hit on an older injury. She was successful as he let out a mighty howl and loosened his grasp, and collapsed. She wasted no time, jumping over his prone body and running out of the shop.

She heard the wail of sirens behind her as a police car pulled outside of the shop moments after she exited. Her stomach flipped at the sound, and she looked behind her desperately, seeing two PC's exiting the vehicle and shouting at her to stop. She thought that she might be able to outrun them with the head start she had, frantically ignoring the heaviness of the bell in her arm. So focussed on the constables behind her she didn't notice the ones rounding the corner on bicycles until she nearly ploughed them down. They quickly dismounted, blocking her path and she looked around in a panic. Before she could decide what to do the constables caught up with her from behind and she felt them grab her. She was caught.

Her legal guardian was charming when he wanted to be; he showed up to the police station to pick her up and acted appropriately shocked and upset. He assured the police constables that she would be punished, and that she normally wasn't this unruly. Though the shopkeeper, Mr Gold didn't press criminal charges against her, he decided he also wouldn't sue for damages, on the condition she work in his shop without pay. She was surprised about his condition, but didn't really have a choice in accepting it.

When they made it back home her real punishment was swift and brutal. The door had barely closed when he attacked her. If she thought his previous treatment was bad, this took it to new levels. He yelled at her for being stupid, for being reckless, how she had cost him money and time. He emphasized his words with well-aimed kicks. He didn't stop until she was bloody and broken on the floor. She painfully took refuge in her bed, pointedly ignoring the gloating faces of the other girls in the room. Her punishment meant their minor infractions would go unnoticed.

She rolled over on the bed and stared angrily at the wall, resenting the tears falling down her face. Of course her parents had hurt her worse, but they also had potions and magic in that world. In this world her pain lingered, for days, sometimes weeks. He was generally quite exacting in his punishments, never leaving any lasting injuries, and never anything that could be seen. This time was different. She gingerly cradled her arm, gasping in pain. She felt nauseous and cold, and there was a deep ache in her arm that sharpened whenever she moved it.

The ache persisted for a few days, and the ache increased if she used her arm for anything. She started after school at the shop, volunteering. Gold had her cleaning, and she noticed he had removed the bell she tried to steal from his shop. They didn't speak much, he worked behind the counter, writing in a ledger most the day, and she tried to stay out of his way as much as possible.

"Is that really all you've managed to clean in" he paused to glance at one of the many clocks around the room, "three hours?" he remarked incredulously.

Cassiopeia glared at the shopkeeper, she had been working diligently, but it was hard with only one functioning arm. He eyed her carefully, sharp eyes catching the way she was favouring one arm over the other, how she held the mop in her left hand when he knew she was right handed.

"What's wrong with your arm." He snapped, irritated. She shrugged, turning back her pitiful job of mopping. He sighed loudly after watching her for a few moments. She was useless and obviously injured. "Come on, let's go to A&E." He reluctantly shut the shop early and drove her to the hospital.

And so Cassiopeia had her first real experience with muggle medicine. She found it absolutely barbaric. Her arm was broken in two separate places, and the doctors used a large, long needle to inject her with a sedative so they could place metal pins to set the bone. Because she had waited, they had to re-break sections of the bone that already started healing, to get it to set correctly. Then they put a monstrosity around her arm, a hard white cuff that they called a cast. It was itchy, uncomfortable, and annoying. Even more so when she was told she couldn't get it wet. How was she to shower? It was an abomination. She was horrified when they said she would have to keep it on for six whole weeks.

Her guardian kept a close eye on her after the police incident; she went directly from school to the antiques shop, where he would pick her up. Mr Gold always frowned when he saw him, but then Mr Gold frowned at everyone. Her guardian didn't care much for Gold either, always muttering dark things about him on the way back to the home. He would say he was a greedy old dragon, and a dandy to boot. He also made crass jokes about Mr Gold's sexuality. Once they reached the home he would lock her in a room, forbid the other children from talking to her, or even acknowledging her. After a few hours of boredom punishment every evening he sent her to bed, without food.

She hated the routine, but accepted it, not wishing to risk further discipline. She also knew a very important day was coming soon, a day that could potentially change everything for her. She was going to be eleven in a few short weeks, a day that heralded the invitation to Hogwarts, the finest wizarding school. She would get a wand, and would make contact with the world she was exiled from because of her parents.

It was a hope that kept her going every day, and in the darkest moments of the night she would even hope that maybe the Weasleys could help her. Could rescue her again. And if they didnt, she would have a wand. With a wand she could curse the man, reliably, and oh how she dreamt of doing that, of using the curses her mother had lovingly taught her. She fantastised about that, drifting off into a reluctant sleep.

Xxxx

She woke up on her eleventh birthday with a splitting headache and a feeling of nausea. She fingered her silver cuff, placed so many years before by her mother anxiously. She ate her pitiful breakfast quietly, keeping her head bowed and hiding beneath her curls. No letter had come for her in the regular post, though she doubted she would receive it if one did. A knot in her stomach tightened, and she abandoned her single slice of white toast and left for school.

She craned her neck to look outside the windows of the schoolhouse, searching for anything that might resemble an owl. She saw nothing unusual. She eyed everyone around her suspiciously, wondering if they were wizards in disguise. School ended with no strange sightings of the wizarding world, and she felt her mood start to darken.

She waited outside of school for her lift to the antique shop, angrily kicking at the gravel outside the school. Maybe the ministry did more than change her name, she thought nervously. Maybe they erased her whole existence, including her place at Hogwarts. She knew she was a witch; she had performed enough magic to be certain of it. She fiddled with a knife in her pocket, feeling sick. Maybe they found out about her crimes from when she was a child, that she had cast unforgivables. Maybe they decided that she wasn't fit to be a witch. Maybe she was stuck there forever, until her mother found her. She went back to fiddling with the silver bracelet nervously when her guardian pulled up in his car.

Her heart thundered when he grunted they were going back to house and not to the antiques shop she had robbed. He didn't offer any explanations and she didn't ask any questions. Adrenaline raced through her body as she followed him inside, wondering, hoping, that this would be it. This would be her return to the wizarding world. Hope turned to dismay when she first spotted Albus Dumbledore, casually sipping tea in the sitting room. Dismay turned to horror when she saw who accompanied him.

"No." she gasped, her airways starting to restrict

She shook her head, tears beginning to stream from her eyes unbidden, and she backed away slowly. There in front of her stood her mother, beautiful and deadly, dark curly hair was nicely combed, and she looked as if Azkaban had barely affected her, casually sipping tea with Albus Dumbledore. Albus glanced up at her entrance, looked briefly concerned, and stood to greet her. Cassiopeia turned and ran away, tears blinding her path.

"Cassiopeia!" she heard her mother yell after her and she forced herself to run faster, the run farther, to escape her. She wouldn't go back there, not again, she couldn't go back. She'd rather stay in her miserable existence with the muggles than go back.

Pavement turned to dirt as her feet traced a once familiar path, and it wasn't long until she found herself taking refuge in Castle Lestrange. She buried herself in blankets that had since gone stale, and she fumbled with her tape player, blindly putting in music and cranked up the volume, turning her cheap headphones into tiny speakers. She tried to still her breathing, and clutched her knife in her hand, adjusting and re adjusting her grip. She had to think, to plan through her next steps. She tried to focus on her music, on the sound of water flowing gently in the stream near her, on the leaves in the trees, and the birds in the sky. She tried to do everything to ignore the fact that someone had followed her, and they were walking up to her path now.

"I'm not your mother Cassiopeia." Her voice sounded different, but Bellatrix had always been good at pretending, tricking other people into believing crazy things. She shook her head, refusing to look her way, wishing she could disappear into the very fabric of her fort.

The person paused on the opposite side of the clearing, uncertain. "My name is Andromeda Tonks. I am your aunt, and I am definitely not like your mother Cassiopeia."

Cassiopeia hugged her legs to her chest, and anxiously bit the skin on her knees.

"We've been—I have been looking forward to meeting you since I found out about your existence. I wondered how the daughter of my sister could charm the Weasley's so."

She stilled, "you know the Weasleys?" her voice was small, strained, and she risked a glance at the woman. Her heart froze and she looked away just as quickly, she may not sound like her mother, but she looked like her.

Andromeda stood across the clearing, her hands raised in front of her in a placating gesture, "oh yes, Molly and Arthur Weasley are anxiously awaiting news about you. They've been searching for you for years Cassiopeia, and I promised them a visit as soon as we found you. Look, they even wrote you a letter. They said you might be frightened of me."

She sounded mildly annoyed at her last statement, but nonetheless Cassiopeia glanced up at the stranger who claimed to be her aunt. She was holding two envelopes in her hand. Noticing her suspicious glance, Andromeda continued, "one is from the Weasleys, and well, I think you've been expecting the other letter."

"Throw it to me. Don't come any closer." She hated how her voice trembled in fear.

The woman nodded, and complied. Her hands shook as she carefully opened the first one. Keeping half an eye on the woman who looked too much like her mother she read the contents of the letter. It was short, written in Mrs Weasley's delicate handwriting. It was simple, a quick introduction to the woman who was now kneeling across from her, and an invitation to come visit the Burrow at her earliest convenience. Her eyes burned when she saw it was signed with love from Mr and Mrs Weasley. The second was the letter she was expecting, acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; she felt a knot loosen slightly in her stomach at the sight of it.

She turned her attention back to her aunt, somewhat reassured about her identity by the Weasley's letter. "Take out your wand and show me your forearms. And stay over there" She croaked, her voice hoarse. She was still a little suspicious of this woman. The Weasleys could be wrong, and this woman was still related to her mother. Andromeda carefully removed her wand from her pocket, and tossed it in the girl's direction. She took off her sweater, revealing smooth, pale, unmarked forearms.

Cassiopeia relaxed slightly, "no knives?" Andromeda's breathing hitched at the question, her heart breaking at this girls fear and caution. "Ankles." The girl demanded, voice getting a little stronger.

Andromeda lifted her trouser legs, showing her simple shoes, her throat constricting as she wondered just what had happened to the girl to make her so afraid. Cassiopeia relaxed completely, satisfied that this woman was no immediate danger.

She sat back into her blanket pile and eyed the woman with curiosity, "so if you're not here for my mother, why are you here?"

Andromeda sat completely on the ground, crossing her legs and scrutinised the girl in front of her. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. She knew that Bellatrix wasn't the most nurturing mother, and she was warned that the girl was going to be skittish, but she was completely unprepared for the reality of the situation.

"I came to introduce myself, and maybe offer my help." Andromeda said softly

"How can you help me?" she asked bitterly, "people are always saying they are trying to help me, but they never do." She fiddled with her silver bracelet, wishing she could pull it off.

"Do you like it here Cassiopeia?" she asked suddenly. The girl looked away and shrugged.

"How did you break your arm? That is what happened right? To your arm?" she shrugged again, her face beginning to redden.

"What's it to you?" she finally bit out.

"I want to offer you a home, with me, my family. I have a daughter, she's at Hogwarts now, first year." She didn't have to look at Andromeda to know that she was smiling now, "her name is Nymphadora. And my husband Ted, he's muggleborn, so you can talk to him about your time in the muggle world, he can understand better than I can—"

"You are a blood traitor?" Cassiopeia interrupted, now looking at her aunt in a new light. It wasn't an accusation necessarily, but Andromeda stiffened all the same.

"Yes, I suppose some would say that. I love Ted, and he is a brilliant wizard. But it is also the reason why we are just now meeting; my sister forced us to go into hiding during the war. They had already placed you in a muggle home before we could do anything to stop it."

Cassiopeia was nodding in agreement with her assessment, "yes, she would've killed you if she ever found you. Your whole family. It would not have been quick or pleasant." It was very matter of fact, Andromeda found it mildly discomforting.

"It is ultimately up to you Cassiopeia, whether you want to come live with us, as a family. I am not going to make any decisions for you. That has happened enough in your life. You can go to Hogwarts wherever you choose to live."

Andromeda watched nervously as the girl quietly thought, she was staring up into the trees now, relaxing against a wall of the makeshift building. She had initially been worried that the child would be a mini-Bellatrix, but what she saw now could not have been further from that reality. The girl was small, far too small, even for her age. She was pale, had dark circles under her eyes, and was dwarfed by the roughly put together fort. It was obvious this was a special place for her; Andromeda could see piles of blankets, and the words 'Castle Lestrange' carefully written on a plank of wood that was haphazardly attached to the fort. She could hear the faint sound of music coming from the tape player she held closely to her chest. Her cast was a dirty grey, with strange creatures drawn across it in black. She frowned at the injury and the muggle solution, noting the girl never had answered her question, though judging from her appearance and from the house she had found her in, she had dark suspicions.

"What happened to my parents? They told me they were going on trial, but I never saw the result."

Andromeda was taken aback from the question; the girl was still looking up at the trees, watching the wind rustle through the leaves.

"They were sentenced to Azkaban, for life."

The girl nodded, "not to death?"

"No, we do not have the death penalty."

The girl snorted at that, "shame they changed their mind on that count. I saw many Aurors kill death eaters." She finally looked at Andromeda, who was speechless, chilled by the implications of her statement.

"If I go with you, you are risking your family's lives. You are a blood traitor, I may not care about that, but she will." She was very serious now, solemn and sad.

"She is gone Cassiopeia, she's never coming back, she wont be able to hurt you. To hurt us."

Cassiopeia smiled sadly and shook her head, "do you see this?" she gestured to her bracelet, perfect, seamless, and stuck. "She gave this to me, when I last ran away. She can use it to find me, no matter where I am in the world. No matter the wards in place, she will know my location. It's why I never ran away again, because anyone who would dare help me was signing their own death sentence. It's stuck; she is forever with me, haunting me. Do you understand?" Cassiopeia pulled her legs up to her chest again, curling into herself sadly.

"I understand." Andromeda said softly, cursing her sister. Cassiopeia buried her head, turning away from Andromeda. She hated herself for the tears that came so easily, but nodded in acceptance.

"My offer still stands, you can come home with us. The Weasleys are adamant that you visit as soon as possible. Even if you decide to stay here, they are insisting on that. You don't have to make your decision now, you can come and stay with us for a few weeks, see how you like it." Andromeda stood up, and started dusting the dirt and forest debris off her person.

Cassiopeia stared at her in shock, her mouth hanging open. "You said you understood." She said weakly. She hardly dared to believe the implications.

"I understand my sister can track you. Right now she is in prison. If the time comes that she is free, we can deal with those consequences then. But for now I suggest you think on what you want to do, not what your parents would want, what I want, or what anyone else wants." Cassiopeia opened her mouth to respond, but Andromeda held up a hand, stopping her.

"Think about it, take your time. Myself and Albus saw this lovely café in the city center, Red Apple, do you know it?" Cassiopeia let out a quick breath, her words dying on her tongue. She nodded hastily; she knew the place though had never gone inside.

"Come find us when you are ready, and remember, you can give us a try, Dora is coming home next week for Easter, so you can meet her if you decide to come with me for a few weeks." Andromeda gave her one last smile, slowly picked up her wand, and walked away from the clearing, leaving the girl to think.

Afternoon turned into early evening, Cassiopeia had curled up into her blankets, she had placed her headphones on, and she lost herself in music. She thought deeply about her next step, and found the choice almost overwhelming. She never had a choice before, over anything in her life, it was daunting. What if she made the wrong decision? Her aunt, the blood traitor, had promised that she could leave if she didn't like it at her home, she wondered about her husband, a mudblood her mother would call him. She had enough experience with muggles to understand that they didn't differ much from wizards in personality, but she always wondered about the differences in power. And she had a daughter, a year older than her, already at Hogwarts. She didn't really have a good track record with other girls, or other kids in general. There was nobody she really could ever call a friend, nobody except Charlie Weasley, and she had barely known him really. She wondered how Andromeda would react if she didn't get on with her daughter. Would she kick her out? Send her back to the muggles? Her stomach started to growl and she came to a conclusion, there wasn't really much of a choice when she thought about it. She hated the muggles, and now that she had an option to leave she couldn't stand to think about staying in her current situation. She figured if she hated it at her aunt's house, that she could leave, run away. She was rather good at that.

Having made her decision she carefully packed up her belongings at Castle Lestrange, said goodbye to her refuge, and made her way to meet her Aunt in the café.


	5. Chapter 5: Getting to Know You

Her mother was here. She had broken out of prison and used her connection to the silver bracelet to find her daughter. She was thoroughly disgusted at her state, and she taunted her for her weakness with the muggles, she was angry that she wasn't strong enough to fight her previous guardian, that she had lost to a lowly muggle. She was furious that she had taken refuge at the Tonks residence. That she dared interact with a burned member of the family, with a blood traitor. She was an embarrassment to her mother, and she was going to be punished for it.

Bellatrix had to do it she said; Cassiopeia's actions practically forced her hand. She used the knife on her, slowly, exacting the maximum amount of pain from the shallowest of cuts. It was for her own good, Bellatrix said, she had to learn that she had done wrong. Cassiopeia tried to keep a straight face, tried to ignore the pain, to overcome it, but it didn't take long until she broke. She cried and screamed as her mother laughed, digging into her skin with her silver knife, whispering in her ear the whole time that it was her fault. It was always her fault. That she was a bad girl and had to be punished. She tried to fight to get out of her mothers grasp, but she was sitting on her now, using her weight to pin the girl down to the ground. Hot tears ran down her face and she was beginning to have trouble drawing breath between her cries, and the _pain_. The pain was intense, like fire burning across her skin.

"Cassiopeia," she heard her mother cry out, as she wrapped her arms around the crying girl, squeezing. She fought her mother, tried to get away.

"Cassiopeia, shhh, I've got you." She said, overpowering the girl.

Cassiopeia stiffened suddenly, feeling the beginnings of a very familiar curse start to overtake her. Fresh screams tore out of her throat, temporarily forgetting her fight with her mother as the pain overtook her world.

When she came back to herself she was sobbing, blubbering, "Please mother, please. I'll be good, I promise, I'll do whatever you want. Please, stop." She gasped in-between the pain.

"Oh Cassiopeia, I'm here, you're safe." Her mother crooned. She flinched, her whole body oversensitive from the Cruciatus and shivering uncontrollably, the room was dark and the arms wrapped around her were too tight, too restrictive.

She tried to fight, "Please, stop, leave me alone. Ill be good, I swear" her voice was hoarse, as she tried to gather her strength to pull away.

"Cassiopeia, you're safe, she's not here, I'm not her," her mother said, her voice strained.

Cassiopeia kept repeating her mantra of apologies and promises, hoping to appease her mother and to avoid more pain. She struggled in her grip, trying to get away.

"Andromeda," she heard distantly, a male voice this time. She shivered and tensed, hoping her punishment wouldn't continue.

"Let me try," she was confused as her mother reluctantly loosened her grip and let her go. She tried to put as much distance between herself and the woman when she let go, but was dismayed to find another take her place, a man she vaguely recognised.

"Cassiopeia, its Ted. You are having a bad dream. You are safe, you're mother is not here. She is in prison, and she will never hurt you again." The man said steadily, keeping a hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head, unwilling to believe him, a dream? She was in so much pain; she was in the Lestrange manor wasn't she? Her heart raced as the confusion turned into fear. The man kept repeating his words, telling her she was safe, to breath. She struggled, trying to follow his directions, but she found her throat was closed, that she couldn't draw in deep breaths causing a fresh wave of panic to overtake her. She looked around wildly, trying to see through the darkness to see her surroundings. She flinched away when she saw her mother, standing in the corner of her room, staring at her intently.

"Please don't hurt me." She whimpered, still trying to pull away from the man, but she was uncertain, half hearted in her attempts.

"You are safe Cassiopeia. I am Ted Tonks, and that is my wife, Andromeda, not your mother." He repeated firmly, confidently.

Cassiopeia finally stilled, her eyes adjusting to her surroundings, taking deep breaths to regain her sense of self. She was safe. She was in the Tonks house. That was Andromeda. Now that she looked, really looked, she could see the differences from her mother, she lacked the manic energy that defined her mother and she was wearing the most ridiculous pair of pyjamas that she had ever seen. She was having a nightmare, and she was safe. She was safe. _She was safe_.

She kept repeating this fact, trying to get her body under control, her fear turning into mortification as she took in the implications of her surroundings. She must've screamed, she woke them up, and she flushed with this realisation.

"I'm sorry Mr Tonks, Mrs Tonks." She murmured, pulling away from Ted and pushing herself into the corner of the room, pulling her legs up to her chest.

"I'm sorry I woke you. I-" she paused, closed her eyes and swallowed, "I promise it wont happen again." Her voice was small, hoarse, and her throat ached.

Andromeda approached her carefully, slowly, as if afraid she would set her off again. "Cassie, its OK, you don't need to apologise, we just want you to feel safe." She sounded worried.

Cassiopeia recoiled at the nickname, her heart rate rising again. It was too soon after the nightmare, too much like her mother. "Don't call me that." Her voice was sharp and caused Andromeda to pause briefly in surprise.

"I—Cassiopeia, please, we just want you to feel safe." Andromeda stuttered.

Cassiopeia nodded her head, and buried her face, "I'm sorry Mrs Tonks, its just, _she_ used to call me that. You can go back to sleep, I'm fine now." Her voice was muffled, and she fought the tears that threatened to spill over as she remembered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ted asked, he was sitting on her bed with her, his hand hovered in the air between them, uncertain whether he should comfort her or not. She shook her head vigorously, and sniffed.

"If you're sure…" he trailed off, looking at his wife, she shrugged helplessly. She nodded, sniffing again, "we'll be just next door, if you need anything." Andromeda said softly, and together the couple left the room and left Cassiopeia alone.

When she heard her door click shut after them, she released a torrent of tears she had been desperately holding back. It had been years since she had a nightmare that intense, that real. She couldn't sleep for the rest of the night; instead she sat curled in the corner of her room, a stone sitting heavily in her stomach, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable in the morning. She had hoped that she could be fine at the Tonks house, but as always, she created problems everywhere she went. She sniffed again, wiping her nose carelessly on her arm; at least she hadn't unpacked her things the night before. She was ready for whatever came in the morning.

Xxx

Cassiopeia set her backpack against the door of the kitchen, packed and ready to go. She was silent through breakfast, her eyes downcast, mechanically eating and not tasting a single bite of the breakfast Ted Tonks had prepared for her. Andromeda was talking, not about anything important, just this and that, small talk to fill the room with noise. She didn't respond, barely listened, just counted down the moments to when they approached the subject of the previous night. She finished her food, drank her coffee, and folded her hands in her lap.

"If you're done eating we can head out whenever you want kiddo." It was Ted; he insisted she call him Ted the previous night. He was clearing up the plates, frowning at the coffee cup in front of her in mild disapproval but remained silent.

She took a deep breath, swallowing a lump in her throat and folded in on herself. At least it was a painless transition, she wondered if it would be painless when she returned to the group home.

Andromeda busied herself, gathering coats, fussing with her purse contents. Cassiopeia got up slowly, mechanically put on the coat Andromeda was handing her, and sniffed quietly. She would not cry. She had promised herself she would not cry this time. But she couldn't help the burning gathering behind her eyes, she had promised herself that she wouldn't get attached to this idea, that it was just temporary. She hated herself for her reaction, it was ridiculous, she had only known the Tonk's for just one day.

She hoped she could still visit the Weasleys' when she was back in the group home. Maybe they would come there, she could show Mr Weasley around the muggle town, he would like that. She swallowed thickly again, thinking about the funny image of Mr Weasley in her tiny muggle town cheered her up marginally.

"Cassiopeia, why are you bringing your bag?" It was Andromeda, she sounded perplexed.

Her head shot up and she eyed Mr and Mrs Tonks for the first time that morning. Ted had stilled by the door, his jacket half on, he was holding a large bag of coins, and also looked confused.

"I will need my things when I go back there." She gripped her bag tighter; they surely weren't going to take her things would they? She didn't think they were those sort of people, she hoped at least.

"Go back? Where do you think we are going?" It was Ted, he was studying her intently now and it made her want to squirm.

They were going to be like this? They were going to make her say it, make her own up to her own faults. They were making her explain her inadequacies; she did start crying now, bitterly. The fact she was crying made her want to cry more out of frustration, how dare they do this do her?

She wiped her nose angrily and stared at the floor now, "you're taking me back there, to the group home. Because I am worthless crying little girl who can't even sleep through the night." She ground out, hating them for making her say it. It was after all something her previous guardians had always told her. Just because it was the truth didn't mean she had to like it.

The room was silent for a beat, Ted and Andromeda looked shocked, speechless. Andromeda recovered first, reaching for the crying girl, ignoring the way she stiffened in her grip. "No—we would never, Merlin, is that what you thought?" she pressed the girls face into her shoulder and looked at Ted hopelessly.

"I—is that why you were so quiet at breakfast? I just thought I was a bad cook?" he tried to laugh at his joke, but it came out strained. "Cass, we are going to a muggle arcade. Remember, we spoke about it last night? Space invaders and Pac Man?" he held up a bag of coins weakly, "I pulled out muggle coins earlier this morning, when you were still sleeping."

She stilled in Andromeda's grip, no longer struggling as she took in his words. He was referring to her cast, Ted had noticed she had doodled her favourite game characters on it, being a muggle born wizard he had recognised the figures and had suggested the previous night over tea that they should try a local arcade. Of course she remembered, it was the first time she had felt any sort of optimism about this whole arrangement.

"But—" she pulled herself out of the older woman's grasp to look over at Ted, "last night, I woke you up, I attacked you." Her tears started to dry up as disbelief began to take over.

"Cass, you were having a nightmare," Andromeda pushed the girl's curls out of the way so she could make direct eye contact, it was important to her that the girl understood her next words. "We would never send you back to that place Cassiopeia, no matter what you do. And we especially wouldn't send you back for something as simple as minor as a nightmare. And you are not worthless, it's okay to cry."

Cassiopeia stared at the woman, turning her words over in her mind, examining them from all angles, looking for the loophole, the catch. So focussed on this she barely noticed Ted's hand coming to rest on her shoulders, "We're family Cassiopeia, it is something me and 'dromeda take very seriously. We'll be here for as long as you have us." He squeezed her shoulder gently to emphasise his words.

She stilled and her mind raced as she listened to their words, incredulous before she shook her head. "You cant feel that way," she murmured, pulling out of Ted's grasp and pushing her back against the wall. "You just met me yesterday, how can you feel all of that. You're just lying, to make me feel better." It had to be true, they couldn't possibly feel that way, and they didn't even know her. How could they?

Andromeda clasped her hands in front of her, as if praying and squeezed her eyes shut, seemingly holding back her own tears. "Cassiopeia, family means everything to me, to us," she grasped Ted's hand and smiled lovingly, sadly, at him. "I chose this family, over the Blacks. We have known about you for years, we waited for this moment for years, and now that you're finally here, we wouldn't dream of abandoning you. We will always be here for you, for as long as you have us." She was crying now, and Ted's eyes were shining.

Cassiopeia took a few breaths, thought about her aunt's words, and after thinking about it, analysing the true meaning, she finally understood. The Tonks were idealists she realised. They wanted a family, Andromeda wanted to reconcile with the family that burned her, wanted a part of that. She wanted what Cassiopeia represented, a symbol of her past.

She relaxed, finally understanding their motives. They didn't want her necessarily, who would? If they really knew her, their idealist image would be shattered. She bit her lip, thinking quickly. They said they would keep her for as long as she'd have them, and what choice did she have? They seemed mostly nice, they were clear they wouldn't abandon her after a bad nightmare, and they had shown no inclination towards violence so far. If she could hide her true self, the monster who tortured innocents with unforgivables and attacked people with knives, if she could behave, this would be an ideal place to wait out her temporary freedom. She knew it was temporary, she knew that one day her mother would come for her, and she'd be her pawn once again.

She nodded, happy that the world made sense again, and put her bag down. "You were serious about the arcade?" she asked, hesitantly, wondering if they were still leaving or not.

Andromeda looked relieved, and tried to quickly wipe her tears away, and Ted smiled brightly, patting his wife on the back and grabbed the bag of coins. "I play a mean game of Asteroids, but first I think we need some ice cream."

"What are asteroids?" Andromeda asked, straightening her hair, Ted grinned at her and winked at Cassiopeia, "It's my favourite game…" He continued to explain the game mechanics to his wife, who had very little experience with the muggle world and had never stepped into an arcade, she hadn't even understood the word when they discussed it the night previously.

Cassiopeia followed them, still quiet on the walk to the arcade, half listening to Ted's explanation and half thinking about her life, and how quickly it was changing again. She fingered her silver bracelet, it felt cool against her fingers, and thought about her mother's tracking charm. She wondered how long she had, and if it even mattered what she did to pass the time.

She thought about Hogwarts, about what the castle would be like, she wondered if she'd like her classes, how she would do in them. She wondered about the other children, and whether she'd get along with them. If she would get along with the Tonks' child, Nymphadora, who would be home visiting for Easter the following week. And she wondered about Charlie Weasley, the boy who had changed her life what felt like an eternity ago. She thought about all these things until her mind thankfully went blank as she focussed on beating her high score at Pac Man.

Xxx

Nymphadora Tonks was the nearly the exact opposite of Cassiopeia in every way, and Cassiopeia was finding her presence exhausting.

She was boisterous, dramatic, colourful, and _friendly._ She filled a room with her personality, she was always cheerful, had no concept of an inside voice, and everything she did was to draw attention to herself. Her hair varied wildly in colour moment to moment, as she experimented with the most outrageous looks, and she cared very deeply how she looked, and hid this fact behind a veil of feigned nonchalance.

Cassiopeia was quiet, small, and generally preferred to not draw attention to herself. She wouldn't say she had style, but if she did, miss 'don't call me Nymphadora' was cramping it. Andromeda took the pair out for a day in Diagon Alley, something Cassiopeia had been looking forward to anxiously since the plan was announced, because they were meeting up with the Weasleys' while there.

They were running late because Nymphadora loudly mused over which clothing combination she would wear, all the while listening to loud hideous noise that she called music over the wizarding wireless. Cassiopeia had been ready in minutes to go, having only a few items of clothing to choose from, she never much put stock in her appearances. The delay set her on edge, and she retreated into the living room, with a closed door to calm herself, and to distract herself with some better music from her tape deck. Her palms were sweaty and she felt nauseous, suddenly regretting eating breakfast with quite so much gusto, worried about what the Weasleys', more importantly what Charlie, would think of her.

"Nymphadora Tonks, you hurry up this instant!" Andromeda shouted up at the girl.

Cassiopeia barely repressed a flinch as the sudden outburst cut through her music.

She didn't cover it well enough because Ted Tonks, who was sitting a reclining chair next to her, caught it. He frowned at her a little, before glancing up at the ceiling where the sounds of objects being thrown around could be heard as the young girl emptied her wardrobe.

"Moooooooom!" she cried, "I never get to wear my normal clothes at school, and I want it to be perfect!" Cassiopeia rolled her eyes and turned up the volume.

After what seemed like an eternity the younger Tonks girl was ready to be seen in public, wearing a garish t-shirt with patchwork trousers and black boots she was a sight to behold. That wasn't taking into account her shocking orange hair.

"Wotcher Cass!" the girl said cheerfully, completely unaware of how ridiculous she looked.

Andromeda looked put out at her choice of clothing and hair, but had long since learned that if they didn't leave immediately, they would definitely be late. There was a time and place when she could pick these fights, and this was not one of them.

Cassiopeia didn't respond to the greeting, she just furrowed her brows. Nymphadora didn't seem to mind or even notice the girl didn't respond, already giving her father a dazzling smile.

"What do you think Daddy?" she did a twirl and laughed at the pained expression on Ted's face, "It's very, er… Bright Dora."

Cassiopeia stood up, carefully slipped her headphones off her head and turned off her music, looking around expectantly. Ted stood and held his hand out to Cassiopeia, "Come on now, we'll apparated since we are so late already. Dromeda will take Dora, and you can come with me Cass," she swallowed, looking at his offered hand, ignoring her new nickname. She had never agreed to it, but that didn't seem to matter too much to the Tonks family. She didn't dislike it anyways.

Carefully she grasped his hand, gripping hard enough that she was certain she wouldn't splinch, but not hard enough to betray her nerves. She couldn't do much about the other signs of her anxiety, particularly her sweaty palms, but Ted didn't mention it and she certainly wasn't going to bring it up.

Soon she found herself in a very busy pub, and Cassiopeia instinctually shrunk back behind Ted in the face of so many people, making herself as small as possible. Ted wrapped his arm reassuring around her shoulder, and she reluctantly found herself pushing close against him, trying to use him as a shield.

That was until she spotted a very familiar set of red heads, standing near the centre of the pub. It seemed the Weasleys spotted them at the same moment she did, and before she could process how it happened she was pulled out of Ted's arms and into a bone-crushing hug from Mrs Weasley. She stiffened in alarm at the sudden physical contact until a familiar smell of baked biscuits and fresh laundry invaded her nostrils. It wasn't long before she was clutching to Mrs Weasley just as fiercely as she was to her, her eyes burning a little. After a long moment Mrs Weasleys grip was replaced by Mr Weasleys, whom she hugged back just a fiercely. She sniffed as they finally pulled away, smiling at Mr Weasley particularly.

"Sorry about last time." She said quietly.

Mr Weasley looked mildly confused, "for running away," she looked meaningfully at Mrs Weasley, "and for the ministry" she looked at Mr Weasley now.

Molly quickly brushed a tear away, and Arthur hastily cleared his throat, "nonsense, I just wish we could have done more to help you." Molly said, giving her another quick hug to assert her meaning.

"Hello!" shouted Nymphadora, startling the trio, "Name's Tonks, you must be Charlie, I've seen you around Hogwarts. Gryffindor right?" Nymphadora smiled brightly at the Weasley family, and drawing Cassiopeia's attention away from the Weasley heads to the rest of the clan.

Bill, their eldest child, stood tall though looked mildly uncomfortable at the whole scene. He had never really spoken to Cassiopeia when she stayed with them, as she wouldn't go anywhere near him. Behind him was Percy, their third child. He had only been a toddler when she was last there. He held the hand of two small boys, the twins. She smiled at how big they had gotten. They were barely new-borns, now they were walking, talking, and trying to escape their brother's grasp. Then she saw him, Charlie, standing awkwardly aside from his parent, unsure of how to act around her.

Unconsciously she moved closer to him, as if to embrace the boy before she stilled, just outside of his reach, uncertain. She smiled at him shyly, before digging into her pocket for his present.

She held out a purple package with a smiling frog on it to him uncertainly, "it's my favourite sweet. You asked me once, what I liked." She shrugged, her face reddening, "this is it. It's from the muggle world, but that doesn't mean its bad."

He took it, and smiled brightly, "Brilliant! Thank you! What's it called? I brought some more Every Flavoured Beans for you to try too." He grinned, excitedly, pulling out a familiar box of sweets and handing it to her.

"Look dad, it's from the muggle world." He held out the small bar for his father to examine.

A giddy look overtook Arthurs face and Cassiopeia couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. She relaxed for the first time in a long time, at ease with the familiar family she thought she'd never see again.

"It's called a Freddo you say," he winked at his son, Fred who laughed at his name, "and its chocolate, in the shape of a frog? How do they do it? How marvellous and clever!" he gave the chocolate back to Charlie and Ted Tonks explained the process of chocolate making.

Once Mr Weasley realised Ted Tonks was muggle born he instantly peppered him with questions. Ted smiled, delighted and amused by the older mans questions. Andromeda and Nymphadora cooed over the latest Weasley addition, asking Molly questions about her youngest child, Ron who was three.

The rest of day passed, Charlie and Cassiopeia catching up, she regaled him with stories of arcades and her club house that she built in the muggle world, and he, being a second year, told her all about Hogwarts, the houses, and his classes. They didn't get much shopping done, being such a big group with so many young children, but they did manage to get ice cream, bought more sweets, and butterbeers and that was more than enough for her.

Andromeda, Molly, and Arthur sat together at the Leaky Cauldron, watching all the kids enjoy their respective drinks. Ted and Bill were in a deep conversation about quidditch and his upcoming O.W.L.S., Nymphadora was playing with the twins and Ron, keeping them entertained with her shape shifting hair and features. Percy was sitting quietly on his own, reading very seriously a book that did not have pictures he declared. Cassiopeia and Charlie had their heads together as they swapped Every Flavoured Beans, and whispered quietly.

"How is she doing?" Molly asked quietly.

Andromeda took a sip of her butterbeer, trying to order her thoughts. "I don't know exactly what's happened to her, she wont talk about anything to do with her past." Andromeda started, frowning. "She had nightmares, obviously about _her,"_ she scowled, "Ted has to console her, seeing me seems to upset her more." Her scowl turned back into a frown, and she looked mildly hurt by the circumstances.

"The house they had her in was filthy, and if you think she's skinny now you should have seen her when she arrived" Andromeda continued, a trace of her nobility coming through in her disgust of the circumstances before she softened slightly. "Honestly, this is the most we've seen her talk, and I don't think I've ever seen her look so relaxed." Andromeda sniffed, and smiled slightly, "She has a beautiful laugh, I don't think I've heard it before today."

The Weasleys took in this news quietly, nodding. "I saw her, after she ran away from us, at the Ministry. If I had a little more time, or—" he swallowed, "I could have saved her from some of this. She could've been with us much sooner." He sounded miserable.

Andromeda smiled sadly at him, "you would have died, you and your whole family if you had intervened." Arthur looked mildly shocked at the matter of fact tone Andromeda took.

"We knew the risks, we could have hid her." Molly straightened, defensive.

Andromeda shook her head, "my sister is deranged. But she is also unfortunately very clever, especially when it comes to creating spells. That silver bracelet on her wrist is one of her creations, a tracking spell that is connected to her. Both Ted and myself have examined it, but its complicated and we are not expert spell breakers. If you had taken her then, no amount of hiding would have been enough and she would have found you." She swallowed thickly, looking over at the scene in front of her, "you have a beautiful family, thank Merlin she never did find you." The Weasleys were silent with this new information, and mourned for Cassiopeia's past.

"We can't change what happened, but we can change her future. She will never be alone again, not while we are still alive." Molly said, steel determination entering her eyes. She clasped her husband's hand who nodded firmly in agreement and

Andromeda marvelled at the feelings Cassiopeia inspired inside the family. But she wasn't surprised; after all she had come to care deeply for the child, despite only knowing her for a little over a week.

Xxx

"Are you ready for that cast to come off Miss Smith." Her eye twitched as the doctor used her fake muggle name but let it slide. It was the name that was on her NHS record.

"Please," she said simply, eagerly hold out her cast.

Andromeda and Ted sat in chairs behind her against the wall. Andromeda looked pale and clutched at Ted, still reeling from the muggle doctor's explanation of her medical procedure. She had been particularly horrified when they explained they had to re set the bone and pin it together. It had been a fairly bad break initially, but the latest X-Rays showed it had healed very nicely. She'd always have a scar, but her arm was almost good as new.

"Now you may be wondering how we get those casts off Mildred, and well the short answer is we use a saw."

Cassiopeia's eye twitched again and she heard Andromeda's strangled choke as the doctor showed her a small tool with a circular saw head on top. She buzzed it a few times for effect and she swallowed, it was all worth it to get the blasted thing off her arm. She was practically salivating at the thought of giving her arm a proper scratch.

"Now it sounds much worse than it actually is. I promise I wont hurt you, and it wont take more than a few minutes. Are you ready?"

She swallowed again and nodded, trying to tune out the high pitch whir of the electric saw. True to her word, she made quick work of her cast, skilfully making two cuts on either side before pulling it off. She sighed loudly as she felt air make contact with her arm for the first time in over a month. It was wonderful.

"Do you want to keep the cast?" She couldn't help the snort that left her mouth,

"Burn it, please." She retorted. The Doctor laughed and set it aside.

"Now your arm is going to be weak for a few weeks, try to not overstress it or overwork it. Any pain come right back. If there is nothing else, then you are all done" She nodded, accepting a wet wipe from the doctor and wiped her positively ripe arm down.

"Ah—" she eyed the saw, an idea coming to mind. "I do have one other problem," she glanced nervously at the Tonks, her face reddening.

The Doctor caught the look and said gently, "your parents don't have to be here if you don't want them, but I do have to get their permission for some things." She said kindly.

"Er, they're not my parents…it's fine I guess, that they stay here. I have this bracelet, and I wondered how sharp that thing was?" she nodded towards the saw.

The Doctor raised her eyebrows in surprise, but examined the silver bracelet. "How long have you had this on?"

"Since I was a small child, my mother put it on, and now it's um, stuck."

The doctor nodded, "well I don't want to just cut it as a first resort, lets try a few other things first?"

It took the Doctor twenty minutes of trying to wriggle it off with lubricant before she gave up and acknowledged that cutting it off what the only way.

What happened next shouldn't have surprised Cassiopeia as much as it did. The Doctor tried with a few other cutting devices, explaining that silver wasn't too hard and a sturdy pair of what looked like side clippers should do the job.

Instead the Doctor bent two pairs of side clippers. Next she moved to a heavier duty set of clippers, meant for stronger metals, and was met with the same result. Dull and bent clippers. She called in a few colleagues, who each tried again with various smaller clippers, all finishing their life as bent and deformed.

Reluctantly they tried with the saw, after carefully wrapping her hand with padding and moving very slowly, they attempted the cut. Sparks flew immediately and the saw head was worn down to nothing.

It became a mission, another doctor had diamond tipped blades, and they explained nothing is harder than diamond; it should definitely make the cut. The diamond tip blade met the same fate, sparks and nearly instant dulling. She did feel the metal heat up a bit at that attempt, but the bracelet remained stubbornly on her wrist. Next they brought in a larger set of clippers, meant for cutting through security locks, to everyone shock and consternation these also bent perfectly out of shape, with a small rectangular indent in the profile of the bracelet was left on the cutting edge.

Three hours, five doctors, two technicians, and even the janitor all had a go breaking the bracelet before they each gave up. It took Cassiopeia all of thirty minutes to lose hope, but the hospital staff were particularly annoyed and were motivated by that annoyance. The end result was the same, they all declared defeat and suggested that she see the original jeweller to figure out what type of metal it was.

The house was quiet that night over dinner; Tonks had gone back to school the week previously, and for once Cassiopeia was missing her larger than life personality. She would have made an excellent distraction. As it was, she went up to her room early, tried unsuccessfully to distract herself by reading, before falling into a fitful sleep. She had another nightmare that night; her mother was equal parts enraged and mocking to her for even trying to break the bracelet with silly muggle technologies. She woke up in the early morning in a pool of sweat, shivering. Her throat was dry but not hoarse and she was alone, meaning she hadn't called out in her sleep. She was thankful for that, thankful for the privacy. She cried for the rest of the morning, hating her mother, and wishing with all her soul that she could burn the stupid bracelet off her wrist.

Xxx

Months passed at the Tonks household relatively peacefully, Cassiopeia continued to have her nightmares, but they became less vivid as she settled into her surroundings and routine. She rarely woke up the other inhabitants of the household in the middle of the night, which see saw as a great improvement.

She still shied from unexpected physical contact but she warmed to Andromeda and Ted, thankful that they seemed to be good people. But she wasn't necessarily comfortable; Andromeda especially could set her on edge when she entered her peripheral vision unexpectedly. She never told Andromeda about her reaction to her, but she suspected Andromeda had noticed her slight hitch in breathing.

The Tonks were very observant, something she found highly annoying. She was not used to such scrutiny from people, having gone most of her life relatively ignored. It wasn't long before the Tonks' could pick up on her subtle tells of discomfort or panic. They also noticed her extreme coffee intake and had slowly been trying to convert her to tea instead of the stronger liquid. She humoured them, but she woke up before either of the Tonks' and would have a few cups before they awoke. She also stayed up later than them, sipping coffee through the middle of the night.

Andromeda had taken her shopping a few times, to buy more clothes and room furnishings. Cassiopeia was shy at first, unused to having a choice in her clothing and surroundings. While at the Lestrange Manor servants provided all her clothing for her, she never got to choose her own robes. In the muggle world she wore school uniforms and whatever clothes fit her in the group home. She was overwhelmed by the sudden choice and uncertain of fashions. In the end she had only reluctantly picked out a few new sets of wizarding robes, and all ones that Andromeda had pointed out to her as viable options.

One morning Ted left early for work and Andromeda approached her with what looked like a family album and a very serious look on her face. Cassiopeia eyed her carefully, a knot forming in her stomach as she examined the older woman.

"Cassiopeia, I think its time you and I have a little chat about well many things." She spoke slowly, making sure the younger girl understood everything she was saying.

Cassiopeia reluctantly agreed, took a hasty sip of tea to wet her suddenly dry mouth and followed Andromeda into the sitting room. She placed the album on the coffee table heavily, and sighed.

"I started dating Ted in my sixth year, and I knew that I loved him in my last year at Hogwarts. I understood that my family was wrong about their prejudices, that I was wrong, and that muggleborns were just as good as everyone else. I knew I would be burned out of the family, and so I started to save things, to remember them by." She opened the book and showed Cassiopeia the contents. It was filled with magical pictures, of people that looked an awful lot like her and Andromeda.

"This is the Black family, we are one of the oldest and pure magical family lines in the country. I took all of these pictures from my childhood home; I wanted to show them to you so you could know where you come from. I don't see my sister telling you these things, she was not the sentimental type." She was sad as she looked at the photos of her past.

Cassiopeia shrugged, "my mother told me some things, about blood purity. About my blood purity specifically. But she never spoke of any other family," she scrunched up her face, trying to remember a time where Bellatrix spoke anything about family.

"I have an aunt, another one. I met her once, but I never saw her again." She shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable about the situation.

She spent most of her day trying to forget about her life, burying herself in books and television instead. This was doing the exact opposite. Andromeda nodded and flipped a few pages to a picture of three girls, smiling and waving at the camera.

"Narcissa, she's the youngest of the Black sisters. She married Lucius Malfoy." Cassiopeia examined the picture closely, recognising the name of her husband,

"Malfoy. I remember him, I saw him a few times with the Dark— With my parents." she stopped suddenly, her blood cooling as she realised her mistake, she gave Andromeda a sideways glance to see whether she had caught the mistake.

Andromeda had caught the mistake, but chose to ignore it for now. This was the most the child had ever spoken about her past, and she didn't want to scare her off yet.

"I was thirteen when they took this picture, it was on one of our summer holidays." Andromeda moved on, and tapped the girl in the middle; she was smiling and beaming up at her older sister. At Bellatrix. Cassiopeia stared at the picture of her mother, she looked softer somehow, happy and innocent. It was hard to reconcile this image with the one she held of her mother.

"We were best friends, I idolised her when we were younger. She was our big sister, our protector, and our leader. She wasn't always the way she is today; I wanted you to know that. To show you that."

They spent some time going through the photos together, Andromeda laughing as she told funny stories about the shenanigans that the three sisters had gotten up to in their youth. She seemed wistful, melancholic as she remembered and Cassiopeia was captivated by this lost past, only commenting when she recognised a name or a person's face. She reacted a bit too sharply when she saw a picture of Andromeda's cousin, Sirius Black, hissing with disapproval. Andromeda seemed surprised that she had known her cousin, but didn't ask for any details, something Cassiopeia was relieved by. She let out a long sigh when they reached the end of the photo album and they sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Why did you show this to me?" Cassiopeia asked finally, trying and failing to understand. Looking at the album had stirred confusing emotions in her. Emotions she didn't want to analyse, emotions she rathered were not there. She struggled with the emotions, missing her usual numb emptiness that she cultivated.

"I wanted you to know your background before you make you next decision." She said softly, looking at the girl very seriously. "You have two choices to make right now, and both will define who you want to be, but these choices need to be made before you go to Hogwarts in a few months, before you are brought back fully into the greater wizarding world." Andromeda paused, trying to find the right words.

"You need a legal guardian Cass. I—we—Ted and I that is, want to make a formal request to adopt you. You can of course say no, but well, the courts try to keep families together as much as possible. With our request the courts will look for any other relatives who might contest the adoption. They will listen to you first, respect your choice. They always do, but just know that you do have more family out there." Cassiopeia listened numbly, a familiar overwhelming anxiety started to fill her as she processed her words.

"You mean, I can stay here, or go with the Malfoys."

Andromeda nodded, "you don't have to make your decision now, but it is something to think about. I'm sure they would love to get to know you as well," Andromeda swallowed thickly, forcing the next words out of her mouth reluctantly. "If you like, we can arrange a meeting. Narcissa wont see me, but I'm sure something can be sorted. If that's what you want."

Cassiopeia was silent, trying to remember her other aunt. Narcissa, she remembered her name now. She had visited the manor once, with her husband and had spoken to her kindly. She was the one who brought her the box of chocolates that her father had later lightly poisoned for his amusement.

She saw the man, her husband, more often. She remembered his eyes, cold as death and steely grey. He was there when she went out with her mother for her special training sessions. They didn't like each other she remembered, her mother and Malfoy. She had seen him kill people, ruthlessly and he had witnessed her crimes as well. He knew what type of monster hid inside Cassiopeia, he probably understood it, the dark feelings she experienced with her mother. He might even encourage them; she shuddered feeling suddenly nauseous as the memories threatened to overtake her. She could almost smell the smoke, could hear the sounds of breaking bones and screaming, she could remember the warmth of her mother, supportive. She loved those moments, and she hated herself for that.

Andromeda's arm snaked around the girl as she pulled her closer, sensing her distress. "I'm sorry, I know it's a bit much, you don't have to make any decisions now."

Cassiopeia let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, focussing on wrestling her emotions into submission. She took all the dark memories invading her mind and shoved them deep into a black hole in the back of her mind. It was where she kept all of her dark thoughts and feelings, a super massive black hole.

"You said I had a second decision to make." Her voice was thick, she had a lump in her throat and she struggled to keep her nausea at bay.

"Look, we don't have to talk about this now." Andromeda was backpedalling, a little alarmed at the emotions she saw flickering across the girls face. Revulsion, fear, hatred, and panic.

"Please. Andromeda, I don't want to have this conversation again." She was going to have to go somewhere far away to regain her centre this, she might as well get through it all.

"Your name Cass. Your parents are infamous for their crimes, and they hurt a lot of people during the war. Unfortunately people will judge you unfairly for their deeds. You have a choice; you can keep your name, your parents name and face their judgement head on. Or, and only if you want, Ted and I have discussed this at length, and we both would be honoured if you wanted to take our name. Become a Tonks." Andromeda was nervous, worried that she'd somehow offend the girl.

Cassiopeia was staring at Andromeda, her eyes wide, searching and disbelieving. "I'm sure the Malfoy's would offer the same choice as well." She added, feeling a little sick to her stomach. The girl jerked at the Malfoy name, terror and revulsion flickering across her face briefly.

"You would adopt me, and give me your name? Let me become a Tonks?" A new emotion swelled in her chest, and she felt her throat begin to close with it, her nose burned and her eyes watered. She wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it was nearly overwhelming.

"You cant want that, you don't want me sullying your name." it was hard to speak, the Tonks' had been nothing but good to her, but if they knew, really knew who she was, they wouldn't be offering this. She worried about the day when they did find out, when they saw the monster lurking within.

Andromeda looked shocked and mildly offended at the girl's declaration.

"Cassiopeia, of course you wont sully our name! We, collectively, even Dora, want you to live with us and be part of our family." She was vehement in her affirmation.

Cassiopeia shook her head, tears clouding her vision as she pulled away from the older woman. She didn't understand, and how could she? They were such bloody idealists, and so disgustingly friendly. The last few months had been the best in her short miserable existence, and it was all going so well. If they knew what really lurked inside her they wouldn't want her anywhere near them. But, the offer was tempting. She had kept her demons at bay the last few months, not feeling a single violent urge in all her time there, something that must have been a record. She could do this, she might never be someone to do the Tonks name proud, but she could at least try to be a decent person.

She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak, not trusting herself to not spill all of her darkest secrets. She was so close to, so close to telling Andromeda about the truth of her relationship with her mother, about the monster inside of her, but she selfishly tamped down that emotion and buried it in the black hole with the rest of her bad memories. Nobody had to know, she reasoned, and she would rather die than tell them the truth. It was her secret to hide, and taking their name gave her all the more motivation to keep that hidden.

Andromeda's face lit up with joy and excitement, "Are you certain? You don't have to make your decision now, you can have time to think about it." Cassiopeia nodded firmly, and tried to smile at the woman, swallowing her self revulsion thickly, "nothing would make me happier than living here, with your family. And becoming a Tonks."

Andromeda was full of energy for the rest of the day, immediately owling Ted and Dora with the good news. They went out to dinner and the arcade that evening, and for once Cassiopeia didn't mind the outpouring of affection from the couple.


	6. Chapter 6: Who's Crying Now?

Cassiopeia woke up early one morning, nerves and excitement tingling through her body. It was finally time, she was finally going to become a real witch. She was going to Hogwarts in five short weeks, and Andromeda had finally let her do her school shopping. She had already been reading Dora's older textbooks, working her way through most of the first year curriculum in her sleepless nights, but she didn't have a wand yet. That was what really made the witch, a wand. And today she was finally going to get one.

She waited impatiently for the rest of the household to get up, preparing breakfast for everyone. Ted had been teaching her basics of cooking but she still wasn't too good at it yet, so she opted to making several bowls of cereal. She was busy preparing a large pot of tea for everyone, and finishing off her second cup of coffee when Ted and Andromeda came into the kitchen, delighted by the simple spread.

Dora slept in, as always, much to Cassiopeia's annoyance. She marched up to the sleeping girls room with a strong cup of tea and banged on the door, shouting at her to hurry up. This continued for a few minutes, much to Ted's and Andromeda's amusement until they finally heard a very groggy Nymphadora open the door and accept the peace offering. Cassiopeia entered the kitchen looking very pleased with herself and continued eating her now soggy cereal.

"Excited then kiddo?" Ted asked, his eyes twinkling.

"I remember the day I got my wand. I was so excited and Cissy was so angry that she wasn't allowed to yet. It was amazing" Andromeda smiled wistfully, remembering parts of her childhood fondly.

"Professor McGonagall took me to get my wand. Hogwarts sends out a professor to help all the muggle born students and to ease their transition. I nearly set her hat on fire." Ted grinned and Cassiopeia snorted lightly.

Breakfast passed quickly, with Cassiopeia clearing the dishes the second everyone finished. She groaned loudly when Andromeda said wand shopping would have to go last. She shopped single-mindedly, not bothering to stop and browse for anything. She was very matter of fact, straight to the point, buying everything she needed for school and nothing else.

Finally the time had come, and she was vibrating with nervous energy and excitement as she stood outside Ollivander's wand shop. She had performed countless feats of minor magic on her own, fuelled by emotion and her unstable raw magic. She had also used her mother's wand, which had performed for her, but only with her mothers hand guiding her. It was time she had her own wand, and she could barely wait.

She took a steadying breath before pushing through the door, causing a loud bell to echo through the shop. Unlike the rest of the street, the shop was empty, dark and dusty and for a second she worried that it wasn't open after all. Then an old wizard, with pale papery skin and silvery eyes emerged from the back.

"Andromeda Black, Elm 12 inches Unicorn Hair, reasonably pliant" he recited, smiling at the woman.

"Well remembered Mr Ollivander, how do you do?" she politely asked, smiling fondly at the old man.

He nodded his head deeply and spread his hands out wide, indicating the stacks of boxes that lined every wall, each filled with a wand.

"As well as can be, given my age. And who might this young witch be?"

"Cassiopeia Tonks sir," the girl responded, bowing her head a little. She was nearly breathless with her assignment.

"Ah, another daughter. I was under the impression you had only the one, Nymphadora Tonks, Blackthorn Phoenix Feather, 13 inches."

Andromeda and Cassiopeia looked at each other awkwardly at the question, neither willing to guess what the other wanted to say.

"Another Tonks it is," Ollivander finally said when the silence stretched a few beats too long. He winked at Cassiopeia before busying himself in the back, gathering a few boxes, muttering under his breath.

Cassiopeia's excitement soon turned to dismay when wands were handed to her and taken away just as quickly. A pile of discarded wand boxes was growing next to the older man. At best each wand was entirely unresponsive, at worst the wands caused items to self combust or explode. After fifteen minutes of this he finally paused, examining her and mindlessly fixing the damage to his shop.

He hummed, and looked at her, really looked at her. Contemplation turned to understanding and he hummed again, loudly. "You really look just like your mother, except your nose. You have your fathers nose. It's a striking combination." He busied himself again in the back and Cassiopeia flushed in embarrassment. He had figured out who she really was.

He emerged with three boxes, and set them gently on the countertop in front of him. He looked at the row of boxes, thinking, and glanced at her.

He seemed happy when the first wand rejected her, and amused when the second wand did. The third wand however was different. She felt warmth flow up her arm as she held it out in front of her, and dazzling purple sparks shot out of the tip. Ollivander sat back and sighed happily. "Hawthorn 12 and three quarter inches, relatively pliant." She reluctantly gave the wand to him and he busied himself boxing it. "A rather unusual wood Hawthorne. It makes a complex wand, pull of paradoxes. Do you know much about the Hawthorne wood young Tonks?" he asked. She shook her head, "Its an interesting tree whose leaves and blossoms can heal, but whose branches smells like death." He paused in his wrapping, looking carefully at the pale girl in front of him, "it's a temperamental wand, one I wasn't sure I'd ever sell honestly, but it appears to have chosen you." And with those final words he finished ringing up her new wand.

She unboxed the wand as soon as she left the shop, barely listening to Ted and Dora's stories about their time at the Magical Menagerie, and she examined every detail of it. It was beautiful, a little curved, though not as much as her mothers had been, with runes carved delicately down the sides. It felt warm in her hand and she couldn't wait to start practising magic with it.

Xxx

Getting onto the Hogwarts Express had been stressful. Nymphadora had overslept, causing them to run behind schedule a bit. When they finally got to the station Cassiopeia hated how busy and loud the platform was, and she soon found herself hiding behind her mess of curls, clutching her wand nervously in her pocket. She was stressed as they rushed to put their luggage trunks on the train and she only had time to say the briefest goodbyes. She did not get to see the Weasleys as she had hoped, but did manage to find Charlie on the train.

He smiled at her brightly when he saw her and Dora peeking through various carriage windows and quickly stood up to greet her cheerfully. Dora was boisterous as always, but excused herself soon enough to go look for her other Hufflepuff friends, waving at them both and offering Cassiopeia a place in her carriage if she got bored.

Charlie introduced her to his friends, a few other kids from the Gryffindor house and all members of the quidditch team. They smiled at her and were polite enough but it became immediately obvious that they thought the first year was a bit below their notice, and gave her and Charlie many meaningful looks to display this. Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away, explaining to his friends that he and Cassiopeia had known each other for years, since they were children, and he promised he'd show her around a bit.

She sat in the corner and stared out the window, feeling lonely for the first time ever in Charlie's company. Conversation shifted to quidditch and game techniques, and the latest matches. It was entirely beyond her understanding and she didn't feel like she really wanted to understand as it all sounded so boring. She fidgeted in her seat, unused to do doing nothing, and wished she had packed a book or something to read while she was on the train. She hated being bored, because being bored meant that there was a high likelihood that she would become drowsy. Drowsiness meant sleep, which more times than not, meant nightmares. And she definitely didn't want to have a nightmare in an overcrowded cabin.

She was relieved when the trolley lady came to offer them refreshments. Andromeda and Ted had given both her and Dora a small allowance for the trolley and she hungrily took in the sight in front of her. She stocked everything except coffee, so she settled for two cups of strong tea, several types of sweets, some she recognised and many she didn't, and two pasties when she saw Charlie looking at one longingly. His own mother had made them sandwiches.

Conversation turned to her as everyone dug into their respective spoils, and Cassiopeia nudged Charlie, indicating he should help himself to her food pile, which was decidedly larger than anyone else's.

"So what house do you want to be sorted into?" One of the quidditch players asked.

She shrugged, uncertain how to answer. Charlie had explained the different houses to her before and she had read about it in Hogwarts: A History over the summer.

"I don't know really." She had a suspicion that only one house would take her, and she worried her lip as she thought about the sorting hat. She read it could read minds and saw everyone's secrets. She worried for her own secrets.

"Well what houses were you parents in? They are magical right?" A sandy haired boy asked, a few of the other children nodded.

She couldn't help but to bristle at the suggestion, "of course my parents are magical. How else would I have known Charlie since childhood?"

"Your parents are often a fair indicator of what house you'll be in, it runs in the family." The first boy, Clarence she thought his name was, said helpfully, trying to move past her outburst.

She shrugged again and glanced over at Charlie, he gave her a reassuring smile but didn't look too certain with it. "Most of my family was in Slytherin," the children recoiled slightly from her, some even wrinkling their noses as if they smelt something off.

"My ah sister," it was still a strange concept, having a sister now, "she's a second year, she's in Hufflepuff."

The children relaxed a little at that but still looked at her with a little more suspicion.

"Here's hoping you take after your sister then," she was starting to dislike the sandy hair boy who first insinuated that she was not from a magical family. Now he was making his dislike for anything Slytherin related clear.

"Why? Slytherin is a great house, Andromeda is a wonderful witch and a testament to her house." The carriage was silent for a beat.

"You call your mother by her first name? Sounds like a real normal loving household" the sandy haired boy broke the silence and a few of the other kids snickered quietly.

"Cut it out Hugo. Mrs Tonks is a nice witch and she was a Slytherin." She glared at Hugo who stopped snickering but still had a smirk on his face that she wanted to smack off it.

Charlie steered the conversation back into the safe territory of quidditch which completely cut her out of the conversation entirely again so she sat and stewed in the corner, looking out the window, and wondering just what the other students were going to be like.

Arriving at Hogwarts station she said goodbye to Charlie who wished her luck and followed the largest man she had ever seen to a group of boats and rode to the castle. Cassiopeia was in awe of the sight in front of her, stunned by its beauty. It was no wonder that everyone she had ever met who had gone to Hogwarts absolutely loved the place. She understood how someone could fall in love with it; she had only just seen it and was already half in love with it.

She waited anxiously in line to be sorted; it was in alphabetical order according to last night, and for the first time she cursed the Tonks name, placing her at the bottom of the list. One of by students went up to be sorted, each house applauding as it gained another member. She could feel the students in the middle tables near her getting restless as more and more first years were sorted. They were hungry and were eager for the ceremony to be over so they could finally eat. Finally she was the last on standing, and even though she was expecting it, she still twitched a little as they called her name.

"Tonks, Cassiopeia."

She approached the hat nervously, her mind racing as she frantically tried to not think about all the terrible things she had done. Of course, telling oneself to not think about something just meant that it was all she could think about. Her mother, her lessons, her past, _him,_ the dark lord.

The felt the hat flinch when it was placed on her head, as it became aware of her thoughts.

" _Very interesting_ " she heard a voice in her head, causing her to panic a little bit. She didn't know it could talk!

" _I see great determination and courage, someone who is willing to do what it takes to survive_." The hat mused for a second examining her head some more.

" _Self sacrificing, you would do anything to save your friends, and even your family. Great loyalty. You would do well in Gryffindor._ "

She froze as she took in the hat's words, it couldn't be serious.

" _I am very serious, but I can see also where you think you belong. You are very cunning, resourceful, and a certain thirst for power that is almost overpowering._ "

Her mother would kill her if she was in Gryffindor. The only member of her family in recent history to be sorted into Gryffindor was her mother's cousin, a man she disliked greatly. And Gryffindor was for heroes like Charlie and the Weasleys, something she definitely was not.

" _Every house has its heroes, but if you're sure, better be_ … SLYTHERIN"

She sighed half in relief and half in resignation, and walked over to the cheering green table. She glanced at Charlie who looked disappointed but was still clapping, and at Dora, who gave her a brilliant smile and chatted to her friends, pointing at her.

She sat quietly at the end of the table, hid a little behind her hair and listened to the conversation around her. She answered a few questions from the other first years but otherwise kept to herself, observing the people she was going to live with for the next seven years. There were four girls including herself and three boys in her year. She carefully noted each name and face of the students around her and tried to gain as much information as possible. By the end of the night she had only revealed the most basic information about herself, her name, her sisters name, that she had a predominantly Slytherin family. She had learned a great deal about those around her however, and filed away information that could prove to be useful at a later date. The other children quickly realised that she would not be so forthcoming and instead left her alone for most the evening, which was exactly what she preferred.

Xxxx

Cassiopeia's first morning at Hogwarts was a nightmare. She had a particularly bad nightmare the previous night that had unfortunately roused the whole dormitory. Even worse was that it was a crying nightmare and not a screaming one.

All the other first years, which previously had seemed casually indifferent towards her, were now actively mocking her, "Poor little baby Tonks, crying for her mommy all night."

Arlene Roberts seemed to leading her mocking, with the other girls following her lead, laughing maliciously at her or making mocking noises or faces.

"That's why she was so quiet at the welcoming feast, she was missing her mommy"

She avoided all eye contact and scowled miserably at her breakfast, hating the blush that was creeping up her neck. Word spread quickly through the table, and the older students were starting to snigger at her expense. She sank further in her seat, her only respite coming from the approach of her head of house, Professor Snape, as he handed out class schedules to all the new students.

Professor Snape was a fearsome looking man, dressed completely in black, with dramatic, voluminous robes that swished with his every move. He had a seemingly permanent scowl on his face as he stared coldly at the few students who dared make eye contact with him. She accepted her schedule silently, scanned it quickly, and finished her third cup of coffee. Her first class was due to start in a little under an hour. If she hurried she could grab her book bag and do a little bit of research before class started.

Not long after she found herself sitting on the cool stones outside the Transfiguration classroom, furiously scanning her charms textbook index, looking for any way to help her prevent her nightmares from causing her more embarrassment. She sighed in frustration; she couldn't find anything of use in the first year charms book. It was filled with mostly useless stuff, party tricks. She'd have to find the library to try and look at the textbooks for later years.

She let her head fall against the stone wall with a dull thud and squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn't sure what caused the nightmare, she didn't even really remember the details of the dream, but judging from her dorm mates mocking comments it had been about her mother. It was always about her mother.

She'd had to try harder to distract herself at night, to limit her sleep. Or she'd have to find a way to guarantee her privacy. Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the steady thud of steps approaching the classroom. She tiredly opened her eyes to see the source of the noise and was met with a stern looking older witch wearing very old-fashioned teaching robes. She recognised her as the witch who led the sorting ceremony, the Gryffindor head of house.

Her lips were pursed and she had an eyebrow raised as she made eye contact with the reclining student, "Early to class then? I must say this is an unusual occurrence" she eyed Cassiopeia curiously, lingering on the books in her lap.

She had been perusing her potions, charms, and transfiguration books, searching for a solution. Cassiopeia sat up a little straighter and gathered her few books and placed them quickly into her bag.

"I'm sorry professor, I wanted to get a little bit of reading in before class, somewhere quiet."

The professor's eyebrow rose a little higher as she turned to unlock the classroom door. "In you go then miss…" she paused, looking pointedly at the student.

Cassiopeia stood up and brushed the dust off her school robes, "Tonks m'aam. Cassiopeia Tonks."

She hovered awkwardly in the doorway, examining the desks, trying to ascertain the best place to sit. The professor continued to the front of the room to a larger desk where she sat and took out a large notebook and a quill. She didn't want to sit in the front, and she didn't particularly want people sitting behind her. She couldn't trust people, especially after the morning. That left the two back corners, but which one? Back to the door or to a wall?

"Any seat will do Miss Tonks, I assure you they are all the same." The professor gave her an amused small smile as gestured around the room.

Cassiopeia nodded and carefully chose the back corner, away from the door, and with a view of the whole room. She sat in silence for a long moment, and glanced up at a clock on the wall. There was still almost a quarter of an hour until the class started. She fidgeted, uncertain about what to do with herself. Her hand itched to continue her research, but she looked uncertainly at the Professor, who was writing something in her large book. Finally she cleared her throat hesitantly.

"Sorry, professor uh." She paused and blushed suddenly. She couldn't remember her name.

"McGonagall." The Scottish woman looked up curiously and peered at Cassiopeia.

"Right, er Professor McGonagall, do you mind if I continue reading?" she gestured weakly to her book bag, which was bulging slightly.

The professor's eyebrows rose again in astonishment, and she smiled slightly, "by all means Miss Tonks, continue with your reading."

She let out a breath and quickly took her potions book, scanning the table of contents for useful information. She paused as she came across one entry, early on ' _sleeping draught'_ she flipped to that section and read. It was a promising lead, but one that she would have to pursue after class.

More and more students were filing in now and taking their seats. She noticed none of the Slytherins wanted to sit next to her, and she could just about hear their whispering. She definitely heard their snickers as they glanced her way meaningfully.

A Gryffindor boy cautiously took the seat next to her after it became clear that there were no seats left in the room. She gave him a curt nod, clearing away her book from the top and he gave her a hesitant smile.

"I'm Daniel Jones," he said shyly.

"Cassiopeia Tonks."

Professor McGonagall had stood and signalled the beginning to class. Her Transfiguration class set the example for how the rest of her first day of instruction. There was a brief introduction and demonstration of the subject and a description of the syllabus, what they could expect from the year, and what was expected of them as far as conduct and work ethic. No Slytherin first year would sit next to her in any of her classes, and instead members of the other houses would reluctantly take the seat as a last resort.

Daniel Jones, the Gryffindor first year, seemed a little more comfortable about sharing her desk during her potions class, the Ravenclaw she shared a desk with for charms was silent. Cassiopeia was always early to her classes, always chose the corner desk, and for the most part kept to herself.

In Herbology, her final class of the day, she was surprised when an enthusiastic Hufflepuff first year actively sought her out as a study mate; apparently she had met Dora the night before and had heard all about Cassiopeia. She was friendly, a bit too chatty for her taste, but her exuberance was mildly amusing to her, so she cautiously engaged her in light conversation. Her name was Constance Green, a muggle born witch who was in excited awe of everything around her it seemed. Cassiopeia sighed in relief as her Herbology class finally started, forcing the girl to quiet down to listen. She found her energy a bit exhausting.

Her stomach growled as the final classes ended for the day, she had barely eaten during the lunch break. She took half a sandwich and went in search for the library, getting herself totally lost. After wandering for what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached her destination, only to have to turn around and resume her classes.

She still had a few hours until dinner, so she decided to distract herself from her hunger with some more research to solve her dorm situation. So far her most promising lead had been the sleeping draught, but she wondered if it would be easier to cast a silencing charm instead. She pondered the options for the rest of the evening.

Unfortunately her second night at Hogwarts was also filled with nightmares.

So was nearly every night that followed for two weeks. She didn't remember the nightmares clearly, which was a sad consolation prize for her misery. The whole of the first year Slytherin class openly mocked her for her night terrors, and refused to acknowledge her outside of their mocking. In all her classes she sat consistently with members from other houses, even working on a few group projects with them out of sheer necessity. The Gryffindor Daniel Jones and the Hufflepuff Constance Green and her were even on almost friendly terms, chatting briefly after class.

A few of the second and third year Slytherin's made their disdain for this inter-house partnerships and associations clear, and gave her housemates more fuel to burn her with. Apparently it was frowned on by some Slytherins to associate too much with other houses.

It was abnormal for older students to take an interest in what went on in the years below them. An exception was made because of her open friendliness with the Weasley's, and her sister in Hufflepuff. Apparently neither Charlie nor Dora had endeared themselves to their Slytherin classmates.

She was lonely, isolated, and sleep deprived. But she was well fed, had a comfortable bed, and was finally back in the magical world. All in all she was actually quite content. She decided early on that the easiest way to quiet her nightmares (which were no longer nightly, but regular enough to still provide fodder for her roommates) was a simple silencing charm. Unfortunately it was a fifth year spell, and one she was finding very difficult to cast correctly and consistently.

In the short term while she practiced the silencing charm charm, she took a few measures to mitigate the scorn from her classmates.

She spent nearly every waking moment possible outside of the common room and their company. She often rose early, was one of the first people in the great hall for breakfast. She stayed either in the library reading or in the company of her sister or Charlie. When she was in the common room, after curfew had set, she would sit in an unoccupied, dusty corner and continue her research. She would stay there well into the middle of the night, sleeping the absolute bare minimum.

This schedule meant she had a relatively large amount of time to work on her course load assignments, often writing more than was set, and going deeper into the subject matter than was expected. She was quiet in class, never raising her hand and she never drew attention to herself. She accepted her first few O's quietly and tucked away the grades before anyone could see. It wasn't that she was embarrassed; it was more that she wanted to be invisible.

At first she was successful, Professor McGonagall almost gave her away when she gently scolded Cassiopeia in front of the whole class for writing an extra two feet for her assignment. A few of the more alert students caught the Professor's comment but it went mostly ignored.

Professor Snape was the next person to blow her cover, awarding her five house points for her understanding of the ingredients required in a sleeping draught, and for receiving the only 'O' in the class. He said it in his normal quiet drawl, catching the attention of a few more of her house mates, but they remained silent, both afraid of their head of house, and content that she earned them house points.

Professor Flitwick however obliterated her invisibility completely by loudly congratulating her on her latest essay mark, exclaiming that it was "simply the best first year essay I've ever had the pleasure of grading, going well beyond the scope of the question, bringing a level of understanding he expected of his more advanced students." He also awarded her 10 points for her essay and placed a list of books he thought she might find interesting.

She blushed under his praise, hiding behind her mess of curls, and ducked her head and slipped the list of recommendations into her robes with a quiet thanks. The whole class was staring at her, the Slytherins uncertain whether they should be rejoicing for the unexpected points, or if they should be jealous that they were not receiving such praise. She could practically hear the scheming a few of the Slytherin's were concocting as they absorbed this new information about her.

There was no indecision on the Ravenclaw side of the room. They were supposed to be the house that produced the brightest minds, and to hear that someone from another house was receiving such high praise, from their own head of house nonetheless, ignited indignation and competition amongst the first years. The silent Ravenclaw next to her had mostly ignored her during classes now stared at her with competitive hostility, crumpling her own 'E' marked essay. She was now the person everyone needed to beat.

She sighed in relief as the class ended, and she was one of the first ones to leave the room, grateful for the end of the day. She had originally planned on staying after class to ask Professor Flitwick for help with a problem that had been bothering her for weeks, but after his high praise she did not really want to draw more attention to herself.

Her professor's praise was thankfully only in those three classes. It wasn't that she was especially clever that she received the high marks, it was that she slept far less than the other students, and needed something to do to fill all the extra time in her day spent avoiding nightmares and her housemates. She had two friends; one she was related to and Charlie but both of them had their own lives and friends as well. The few people she spoke to were all in other houses and were wary of being openly friendly with a Slytherin.

She also took a greater interest in Charms and Transfiguration generally, and therefore spent a larger portion of her time researching these subjects. Her potions mark was unusual, as it was on a potion she was particularly interested in. She was an average student at best, a touch impatient for the delicate art. Herbology was a joke, as no matter what theoretical knowledge she carried, she seemed to kill everything. She spent most of her History of Magic class researching other things, the same with Defence Against the Dark Arts, a class she found too easy, mostly casting simple spells to create sparks and learning about a few dark creatures. Later in the year she read they would learn some basic jinx's. She spent this class researching various hexes and their counter spells. She took a passing interest in Astronomy, but the constellations reminded her too much of the Black family for her to take any real joy in it.

Professor Flitwick's praise made her realise that she would have to reign in her research interests for the subject. She would have to spend less time working on her assignments and instead focus on a few other research problems she had. Namely the one that she was originally going to ask the Professor about before he called her out.

Her Walkman. Muggle technology didn't work at Hogwarts, and she refused to believe that it was that simple. She also refused to believe that every muggle born student had just blindly accepted that fact and moved on. Magic could do just about everything. It was inconceivable that the only thing magic couldn't beat was muggle technology.

It was another few weeks that her classmates scheming came to a head. It happened after Herbology. She was walking back to the castle slowly, listening to Constance Green talk excitedly about her first successful ride on a broomstick earlier in the day. Cassiopeia was quiet as the girl talked, finding her enthusiasm mildly amusing, and stimulating enough to distract her from her weariness. The longer she was at Hogwarts, the more Cassiopeia struggled with her sleep deprivation. It was harder to keep her schedule with coffee only available early in the morning. She was approaching what she called 'the wall' where staying awake became an almost impossible task. Falling asleep in such a state however tended to lead to more vivid dreams, generally of the unpleasant sort.

In her current state it took her a second to realise that Constance's steady stream of chatter had halted suddenly. She looked at the girl curiously, noticing for the first time the red flush crawling up her neck. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest and she was hunched into herself, staring steadily at the ground coldly. With a slight shock she saw the girl looked like she was holding back tears.

"Honestly, I'm shocked the old school brooms could even hold up something so big, especially someone who is barely a witch."

It was Arlene Roberts, the Slytherin first year who seemed to lead on the taunts on Cassiopeia. Her eyes glittered maliciously as she mocked Constance from behind.

"Honestly, you would think someone like that would at least diet or something. Any more weight and her broom will definitely buckle under her."

Matilda Cook, another Slytherin first year who became fast friends with Arlene, joined in with the teasing of the Hufflepuff. Cassiopeia glanced at Constance, who she noticed for the first time had a little bit of her baby fat on her form. But she wasn't overweight by any means. She also knew that the magic cast on broomsticks could easily hold the largest of witches and wizards. Constance's face burned, and a small tear slipped out as she increased her walking speed, attempting to get away from the pair of girls.

"Aw, look at the little heifer, she's starting to cry! Now we know why she's friends with Tonks. They probably cry together, arguing over who misses their mommy more."

Cassiopeia felt a hot flash of anger lance through her as she saw how Arlene's words had upset the girl, who was now beginning to sniff loudly as two girls continued to laugh.

"Why don't you go back to the muggle world where you belong Green, and do us all a favour. Your kind doesn't belong here." Arlene's words were sharp and their effect on Constance was instant. The girl curled in on herself, tears now falling freely down her face, and she looked like she was about to run at any moment. She felt another hot lance of anger jolt her as she spun to face the two girls.

"Shut. It." Her voice was low, cold. Those that knew Cassiopeia well understood there was violence in the tone. Unfortunately for them, the girls did not know Cassiopeia well at all.

They laughed in response, "Or what? You'll cry to your mommy?" Matilda guffawed.

"Or maybe you'll really prove you're a blood traitor and turn on your house and turn us in." Arlene eyed Cassiopeia and smirked, the other Slytherin first years, and a few from other houses were starting to notice the confrontation and were stopping to look.

Cassiopeia twitched at the blood traitor accusation, a knee jerk instinct from her childhood. She understood what type of witch Arlene Roberts was in that moment. Unfortunately for Arlene, she had no idea what type of witch Cassiopeia was.

"Just let it go, please, Cass" sniffled Constance lowly, who was looking off in the distance, as she tugged uselessly on Cassiopeia's robes.

Cassiopeia twitched again at the nickname; it was the only response she gave to the Hufflepuff's plea.

"What're you going to do Tonks? Are you really going to choose that..." she eyed Constance with open disgust now, " _Thing_ , over your own housemates? It is bad enough to associate with dirt like the Weasley blood traitors, but Mudblood's? Hufflepuff Mudbloods." Arlene made a sound of revulsion in the back of her throat as she looked at Constance and Cassiopeia as if they were muck on the bottom of her shoe.

The crowd shifted nervously, she could practically feel the anger and discomfort spectators felt at the girl's speech. A few reached even reached for her wands. She also could feel the shame and mortification pouring off said Hufflepuff, who was still insistently pulling on her robes. The blood pounding in her ears cooled as the Arlene spoke, and her breathing evened out as she moulded her intense dislike for the girl into something useful.

"I gave you a chance to shut it."

It was all she said before drawing her wand and hexing the two girls. She was efficient in her spell work; every incantation was said with intent, with anger and dislike. It was one thing to bully her, she didn't care what they said about her nightmares, she could handle it. But they had hurt her friend, a girl who couldn't and wouldn't defend herself, and for that she wanted revenge.

She was ruthless, within seconds both girls were hanging upside down in the air, completely violet coloured, and covered with large, painful looking pus filled sores across their swollen face. Both girls were crying in pain.

"Who's crying now Roberts?" Cassiopeia asked coolly, pocketing her wand.

It couldn't be called a fight, as the two girls never stood a chance. Cassiopeia smirked darkly as she took a few moments to appreciate how her hexes reacted poorly with each other; the skin colouring had been a happy surprise. The crowd of students that had gathered laughed at the change in circumstances.

"Just what is—Heavens! Miss Tonks, what do you think you're doing?" Professor McGonagall interrupted her appreciation of her work.

The laughter died instantly. Her face was white with rage and shock as she drew her own wand and lowered the two girls gently to the ground.

"Off to the hospital wing you two! Collin's make sure they get there alright." The Professor ordered, an older Slytherin boy reluctantly stepped out of the crowd and shuffled the now crying girls towards the castle.

"Miss Tonks, my office. Now." Her words were sharp and her eyes blazed with anger.

"She was just defending me professor, they started it, honest." Constance looked in horror between her friend and the livid professor.

"You'd better come too Miss Green. Mr Jones, if you would please go and fetch Professor Snape and inform him that I have one of his students in my office. You two follow me. Now." She didn't wait for anyone to protest her commands, and the crowd was quickly dispersing in fear of the angry Scots woman.

Daniel Jones, the Gryffindor first year, looked particularly sick as he went off to find the Slytherin head of house.

Professor McGonagall was silent during the walk to her office. She ordered them to stay there and wait for her return, before stepping through her fireplace to the hospital wing to check on the two other Slytherin girls.

The office was silent, save for the ticking of a clock in the far corner. Cassiopeia schooled her face into a carefully blank expression, and she took a few deep breaths to re-centre herself. Now that her anger and adrenaline had worn off, her previous exhaustion returned in full.

Constance sat in a chair and stared hard at the floor. "You didn't have to do that." She murmured quietly.

Cassiopeia glanced at the girl, raised an eyebrow on her blank face, and remained silent. It was a ridiculous statement that did not require an answer.

"You could be expelled! You attacked another student? How do you even know hexes like that?" Cassiopeia forced the blank look back onto her face and she shrugged, remaining silent.

The silence hung heavy in the air between the two for another few moments, before Constance broke it again with a 'Thank you' that was said so quietly that she had to strain to hear it.

She shrugged again, carefully looking at a random spot on the wall, "that's what friends are for."

It was a simple statement, said so quietly the other girl wasn't sure what she heard at first, but the tension broke when she finally understood, with a bright smile.

The lightness lasted only a few moments before the fireplace blazed again and out stepped a still very angry Professor McGonagall followed by a highly annoyed Professor Snape. Cassiopeia returned her eyes to a point on the wall just above the professors' heads, forcing the careful blank expression back onto her face.

"I've just checked on Miss Roberts and Miss Cook. Madame Pomfrey is putting them right as we speak. The girl's are both shaken but are expected to make a full recovery. They both claim that you attacked them entirely unprovoked, and that you have been making antisocial threats to them for weeks." Professor McGonagall took a seat at her desk, her face still white with anger. Professor Snape remained standing, carefully analysing the Slytherin first year.

"If it were up to me Miss Tonks expulsion would certainly be on the table—" she was interrupted by Constance, "They're lying professor. Cassiopeia was just protecting me." She flushed as she realised she had interrupted a very angry head of house, but continued anyways.

"They were teasing me, making fun of my weight, and for being muggle born. They also said some other things about her that I didn't understand, but sounded bad." She hunched in on herself as she finished her defence, her face flaming red now.

"And just what did they say to you Miss _Tonks_." Professor Snape asked, her eyes flicked to him briefly in curiosity, there was something hidden in his tone as he said her name, but she couldn't place it. She returned her eyes back to the stone wall, and shrugged, "I don't recall professor."

Constance stared at her in shock, "Cassie, don't you remember what they said? Something about that Weasley Gryffindor you're friendly with. They also called you a, what was it, blood traitor? And she said—she said something about—" Constance tried desperately to remember the word, "mud something, Professor honest, they were bullying her. Us."

"Is this true Miss Tonks? Were you acting out of defence of your friend? Did they really say those things?" Professor McGonagall's lips were pursed into a thin white line as she scrutinised the silent girl in front of her.

Cassiopeia remained silent as she weighed her options. She could maybe get a lighter punishment if she confessed the truth. But it would mean telling on her housemates. She would forever be known as a snitch, and she had been around long enough to understand that things worked a little different in the Slytherin house than it did in others. They might forgive her for a lot of things, but selling out her housemates would forever mark her for the rest of her schooling career.

She shrugged lightly, "I'm sorry Professor, I simply don't recall." She ignored Constance's shocked outrage.

Professor McGonagall's eyes hardened, "I expected better from you Miss Tonks, especially in light of your otherwise excellent behaviour. The manner in which you attacked your fellow students, house mates nonetheless, is of such severity that if it were up to me, we would be having a talk with the Headmaster right now."

Her heart started to beat faster, she had only just gotten to Hogwarts and now they were going to expel her? Surely the Tonks' would disown her, and send her back to the muggle orphanage where they found her. Maybe she could convince them to send her somewhere else?

Professor Snape interrupted her anxious scenarios, "It is however not up to you Minerva. As a student of my house, I will handle this matter." He looked at Cassiopeia closely, scrutinising her. "I think one month of detention should suffice. She can think about her decisions while scrubbing cauldrons and disembowelling toads." His tone was smooth, with a hint of challenge in it. She let out a light breath of relief; she was safe, for now.

Professor McGonagall was not happy with the punishment Professor Snape had handed out, the two heads stared each other down for a few heart beats before she backed down, "She is your student Severus, however if she steps another toe out of line, ill take her to the headmaster myself. I'll be watching you Miss Tonks, is that clear."

"Yes professor." Her face remained blank and her tone was even. She could tell Constance wanted to protest more, but she was sufficiently intimidated by the heads and confused at her friends sudden memory loss that she remained silently seething at the injustice of it all.

"My office tonight, 8 pm. Do not be late." Professor Snape said before leaving abruptly through the fireplace, his business complete.

Professor McGonagall gave them a hard stare as the two girls exited her office.

 _A/N Sorry for being gone for a little while! I am still working on this however updates may be a little slower as i've finally found another job. We've also caught up to where ive written to. I thought id treat you guys to a long-ish chapter to make up for it. I do have an outline for the story and I know where its going at least through the first year. I also have some interesting themes to explore as she grows up but we'll get there when we get there. Please review if you are enjoying this, and especially if you are not!_

 _Enjoy!_

 _Tibys_


	7. Chapter 7: Fallout

Word spread quickly throughout the Slytherin house. Arlene Roberts and Matilda Cook were sent to the hospital wing by Cassiopeia Tonks. In a matter of seconds, she had managed to hex them into a two-day hospital stay. And she had done it all without losing the house a single point.

The reactions were split, with the majority of the house mostly continued with their indifferent ignorance of her presence. Occasionally a student would nod to her if they happened to make eye contact, but gone was the quiet mocking and whispering from her fellow housemates. In its stead was a quiet respect; in Slytherin it was important to handle your own problems, and to handle them well. She had proven to most of her housemates that she could survive, and that she could look after herself.

Most of the house moved on, but her actions did carry its own set of consequences. Arlene Roberts was a very familiar type of witch to Cassiopeia. She was a witch who believed themselves superior to all others in the magical community. Cassiopeia also knew that Roberts was not the name of an old wizarding family, which meant that she was a witch with a lot to prove to her perceived betters. Her parents' hated witches and wizards of the sort Arlene was, her father found them almost as distasteful as muggleborns, and her mother would relentlessly use them as if they were no better than servants. She remembered them telling her about how pitiful they were, and how she was so much better than them.

She knew of course that her parent's blood purity beliefs were problematic at best. She had seen first hand that muggles had the same range of emotions and personalities as wizards. And she had witnessed Ted perform some reasonably impressive feats of magic, enough to convince her that muggleborns could be just as powerful as purebloods. She also knew that purebloods were a dying breed, and that most the school would be at least mixed, if not half bloods.

But Arlene's actions had caught the eyes of some of what her mother would call the 'right' sort of people. There were old names in the Slytherin house, children from prestigious, old, pure blood families. There were the Avery's, two siblings, a boy and a girl in the second and fourth year respectively. There were the Mulcibers, with a son in the sixth year. Macnairs, a daughter in the fifth year. The Rowle's with a son in the fourth year. And finally a Selwyn, a girl in the third year. These family names were familiar to Cassiopeia, she had known in passing some of their parents. She had heard her parents speak of them, and they all held the same blood purity beliefs she had grown up with.

They had a problem with a fellow Slytherin not only fraternising with other houses, but with blood traitors and Mudbloods. To make her crimes even more reprehensible in their eyes was the fact that she attacked two of her own housemates in defence of a mudblood. They were a minority in the Slytherin house, but they were a powerful minority, and she knew their ire would only grow with time. Especially when they asked around about the Tonks name and made the connection with the burned Black sister.

There was nothing to be done about it now however and she tried her best to put it out of her mind. Something that was remarkably easier than expected. This was mostly due to the fact that after the incident Constance Green was practically glued to her side. Cassiopeia was a little amazed at how dedicated the Hufflepuff girl was to finding her, and though she found the girls company a little exhausting, a small part of her was warmed by the idea of having something approaching a friend.

She also made great strides in befriending Daniel Jones, the Gryffindor first year she shared a transfiguration class. Though Professor McGonagall's opinion of Cassiopeia was severely tarnished by her duelling mishap, she appeared at least slightly mollified by her ability to work with Daniel. The two worked well together, she found transfiguration relatively easy but it was a subject that Daniel struggled in, so she would always spend about half the class gently helping him and encouraging him. It was nice to see his face light up when he finally accomplished the spell, and she felt warm whenever he thanked her for her help and support.

She had never really had friends before, especially ones who were normal and knew her for her, and not for her past and any of the baggage that came with it. It started to become part of her new routine to study in the library or out on the grounds with either Daniel or Constance, or occasionally the pair of them. Daniel was a natural flyer and was deeply fascinated by history of magic, but struggled with transfiguration and charms especially. Those were her best subjects, and she greatly benefited for his support during their flying lessons, and his animated recaps of historical events that normally put her to sleep. Constance also helped Cassiopeia in Herbology and in return she helped the Hufflepuff with her defence against dark arts homework.

As much as she liked her new friends, she was still accustomed to being on her own. She had shaken her new friends with a poorly formed excuse and was reading a book in abandoned corridor that she had taken a particular shining too. The corridor very rarely had foot traffic. It was filled with unused classrooms and storage closets mainly. It was quiet, peaceful, and reminded her a little of her childhood hiding spots in the Lestrange manor. It was a place for her to retreat and hide.

She sat on the hard floor, beside a suit of armour, her back against the cold wall, resting her eyes with a large book open on her lap. She floated in a half sleep half awake state, her mind quiet for the first time in weeks. It was in this state when she was jarred awake by the sound of hesitant footsteps on the corridor. She had been hiding there for weeks and this was the first time her rest and study had been interrupted. A burst of adrenaline set her nerves on edge and brought her to an almost painful state of hyper-awareness. Her hands trembled slightly as she quietly closed the book she was reading and pushed herself closer against the wall, hiding in the profile of the suit of armour.

"Cassiopeia? Are you here?" a quiet voice called, the tentative footsteps faltering in their stride. It was Nymphadora. She took a deep breath and slumped against the wall and tried to still the nerves raging through her blood. It was just Nymphadora, just Dora, nobody else.

"How'd you find me?" She asked tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

"I've been keeping half an eye on you for a few days. Why are you in this creepy corridor by yourself? Are you reading?" she asked.

Cassiopeia took another deep breath before rising to stand to address the other Tonks, and shrugged in response to her question. She didn't want to dwell too much on why she found the corridor peaceful, and trying to explain it to Nymphadora would be an action that would lead to uncomfortable questions. It was better Dora remained in the dark about the particulars of her past; she worried what the girl would think about her if she knew beyond the basics.

"Why were you looking for me?" she asked, leaning gently against the wall, looking at a spot just above Dora's head. Reflexively she buried her hand casually in her robes, fingering her wand. It brought her some relief from the anxiety of being shocked into awareness.

"I heard about the fight you got into, and the detentions." It was the first time she had ever seen Dora look uncertain about something. She remained quiet, waiting for the other girl to continue. A silence reigned between them for a few awkward beats.

"Well, are you going to tell mom about it? Did Professor Snape write a letter home?" Nymphadora's voice was serious, and she was trying her best to catch the younger girls eyes.

Cassiopeia just shrugged and looked at the ground.

"You sent two girls to the hospital wing Cass. That is serious. I heard Professor McGonagall wanted to take you to the headmaster."

"I had to do something. I couldn't just stand by as they teased Green for being a mudblood," she omitted the added bonus of her newfound invisibility within her own house. It had set a very good example of the consequences of aggravating Cassiopeia.

Nymphadora flinched at the word, a reflex from her childhood.

"I understand why you did something, but don't you understand that there might have been a way to do it without sending them to the hospital for two whole days?!" Dora's hair shift colours as she tried to voice her frustrations.

"I haven't told mom yet, but I think you should at least write her a letter. If she finds out about this later and you didn't tell her, she is going to be really cross. Trust me, she grounded me for the whole Christmas holiday in my first year when she found out that I had gotten a few weeks of detention for sneaking out at night." Nymphadora worried her lip.

Irritation started to build in Cassiopeia's chest. Nearly everyone in Hufflepuff thought she was a bloody hero for standing up for their housemate, and yet her own cousin was giving her a hard time for it.

"Look Nymphadora. What's done is done. Let me worry about the consequences."

"But—" The girl tried to continue, a flush rising in her face.

"I can handle myself Dora, and if you don't have anything else to say, then I would like to return to my reading." She was curt, and maybe a little standoffish.

Dora looked like she wanted to say more, but decided against it. With a final pleading look she turned and went back towards more populated corridors of the castle.

Her newfound invisibility continued in her detentions with Professor Snape. He mainly had her disembowelling various creatures, or prepping potions ingredients for his class stores. She preferred her own knife for these tasks, finding it more comfortable in her hand than the ones he provided. Her detentions passed in dull, icy silence, as the professor aggressively marked papers while she worked. He never spoke except his curt instructions at the beginning of the detention, or to dismiss her for the night.

It went like this for a few weeks until one Monday night his behaviour changed. Instead of sitting at his desk, working he instead watched her, his quill unmoving in his hand. She felt her face begin to warm as she noticed his increased scrutiny, determined to not give him any reason to punish her more.

"Something the matter with the knife you were given Miss _Tonks_." He sneered.

He had her disembowelling a particularly foul creature, some type of reptile it looked like. It was a delicate and slimy job, one that she definitely used her own knife on. The potions knives had a very straight blade, and were of moderate length, making them mildly unwieldy for such a delicate job. This particular knife she had acquired from a hardware store a few years ago. It was a delicate folding knife, with a short, curved blade. It had always been one of her favourites; it was discreet and incredibly sharp. She was so comfortable with it that it felt as if it were an extension of her own hand.

She paused in her work and glance up at him quickly before hiding her face in her mess of curls.

"No professor, nothing wrong with your knife. I just prefer this one."

"Did you know that different metals react with the raw ingredients, rendering some useless?" he drawled, his voice quiet as he scrutinised the girl in front of him.

She shrunk a little under his gaze, her face reddening more as a cold flush accompanied her comprehension of his words. She looked at the pile of animal parts in front of her that she had dissected with dismay. Were they all ruined?

"Luckily for you, stainless steel has no effect on this particular creature. If it had we would be having a very different conversation."

She let out a breathe of relief, at least this batch hadn't been ruined. She'd have to be more careful in the future.

"I am more curious as to why you prefer that particular knife." His voice was sharp, pointed. She continued to avoid his eyes, trying to come up with an explanation for her comfort that seemed plausible.

"I er, just have had this one for a while. I used it a lot when I was a younger. For building things sir." _And I used a very similar on people occasionally._ She finished the thought in her head.

The professor was silent as his eyes continued to bore into her still figure. Finally after a tense moment his posture suddenly changed as he busied himself with organising papers on his desk.

"Of course. Building things." He finished his shuffling and opened a book, perusing his contents. "Well, we don't have all night Miss _Tonks_." There it was again, the strange emphasis on her new last name. It irritated her that she couldn't place exactly what was strange about the way he acknowledged her. Just that it was.

Silence reigned for a while in the classroom. The only sounds coming from her careful cutting and the occasional turn of the page from Snape.

"Your mother was rather fond of using her own knives as well you know." She nearly cut her finger open in surprise at his statement. Only years of reflexes saved her.

"Though if I recall correctly, she preferred a more triangular blade, popular on throwing weapons. You appear to be using a skinning blade, more appropriate for the task at hand. And not very useful in building things." He had paused in his reading, his voice was light and matter of fact, and his eyes were probing.

"I—I'm not sure I know what you are talking about." Her mind raced and her blood cooled in her veins. Andromeda had never mentioned any fascination with knifes. Her mother was the only magical person she had ever met that used any other weapon outside of a wand.

His lip curled as he examined the girl in front of him. "Don't play games with me, only a fool would believe that you were a real Tonks." He knew. Her breathing hitched. How did he know?

"In any matter, your _mother_ , wrote to me upon your acceptance informing me of your unique situation. I saw no reason to bring it up."

For a brief moment she thought he had been in contact with her real mother. Her heart froze, but logic dictated that it was impossible for him to communicate with the Azkaban inmate. He must mean that Andromeda told him. But why? To distance herself from Cassiopeia in case of mishaps? Her mind raced with the implications. She carefully emptied her face of emotion, keeping her feelings in check. There would be time to speculate on Andromeda's motives later.

"Why ask now professor? If you've known for months" she barely managed to speak, her face was burning bright red now. Did the other professors know?

"I am simply trying to ascertain whether you are going to be a problem here at Hogwarts Miss _Tonks_. You have been here for barely two months and have already sent two classmates to the hospital wing. And you share your mother's unfortunate infatuation with knives. There are a few striking similarities."

She squirmed, uncomfortable with his brief assessment. There were more than a few similarities between her and her mother. More than he knew about. Despite that she was desperate to be judged separately of her. She could be different from her mother. She had to be.

"If these unfortunately similarities continue, I will personally escort you out of castle and oversee the disposal of your wand. Do I make myself clear?" His voice was light. She swallowed nervously as too in his threat.

"Professor I—" she swallowed again, trying to figure out the best way to articulate her feelings in the matter. "I never want to become like her. I just want to live my own life, without her influence." For the first time in the conversation she met his eyes, though she still hid behind her hair.

He stared into her eyes, and for a second she felt as if he could see into her very soul. In that moment he reminded her of Dumbledore, and the looks he would sometimes give her. After what seemed like an eternity he sat back in his chair, his eyebrows raised in nonchalance "please continue."

She spent the rest of her detentions in silence.

xxx

Staying out of detention was easier said than done, as a few members of her house, particularly the socially ambitious sort willing to gain favour with the more powerful pure blood families, antagonised her at every turn. Relatively harmless things mostly, the odd stomach bug potion in her food, stealing her clothes when she was in the shower, and stealing her homework from underneath her as she inevitably fell asleep a top of it in the common room. All of these things were mild annoyances, hidden behind a veil of anonymity. No one dared confront her to her face.

She took it all in stride, and served her detentions well. Professor McGonagall oversaw a few of them, after not buying her excuse that someone stole her homework. Occasionally someone would sabotage her potion in class forcing her stay behind and endure Snape's icy looks and silences. His warning echoed throughout her head during those times.

Through it all Constance Green was always there. The girl was persistent and lively, full of energy and chatter. Cassiopeia would spend whole breaks with the girl without needing to utter a single word, as Constance would dominate the whole conversation.

Not that she minded that, the girl's constant chatter, though mildly annoying, was also mildly amusing. She wondered if Constance's stream of consciousness talking was a reflection of what a normal person's mind was like. She talked about completely mundane topics, from clothing, hair, jewellery, pop music, and her pets back in the muggle world. Cassiopeia's mind by contrast was dominated by two goals. Sleeping through the night, or at least not waking anyone up in the middle of the night and fixing her Walkman so she could finally have her music back.

She managed to pocket a few vials of a sleeping draught while at potions class, though for a second she swore she was caught by Professor Snape, but it had only been a false alarm. It was ultimately an unsustainable solution, she could brew the potion easily enough, but having a place and a constant supply of ingredients was problematic. It was definitely against the rules to brew potions out of class. Her other solution didn't help her sleep necessarily but it did help keep her nightmares quiet.

She found a particularly useful charm in the fifth year charms book. She spent weeks trying to teach herself out of the book, deciphering the vague diagrams and instructions. It was a silencing charm. She spent most nights up late in the common room trying to cast it on herself. The problem was that she was successful most the time, but had no idea how long the spell would remain active. And without her voice there was no way for her to strengthen it, or release it, once it was cast.

So far she had always woken up with her voice, but the more accomplished she grew as she cast it, the more worried she was that the effects would last into the next day. It was a risk for sure, but it was one that she was willing to take. Finally she could sleep in peace knowing her nightmares, now occurring on a weekly to semi weekly basis instead of every night as she settled into her new surroundings, were her own quiet torment, and not the torment of the whole dorm.

She started work on her second problem, fixing her Walkman. Still wary of approaching Professor Flitwick, lest he expect even more attention to her in class, she decided to approach the muggle studies teacher, Professor Quirrell. Cassiopeia simply refused to believe that magic wasn't capable of mimicking an electrical current. After all it could mimic the electrical signals sent from the nervous system to the brain that communicated pain with the Cruciatus Curse; surely the concept would not be as complicated or difficult for a simple circuit board.

She had glimpsed the man that she thought was the professor at dinners, but it was Nymphadora who confirmed her suspicions, as she was taking the elective course herself. She decided to seek out the man after one of her classes, during an unusually long break and when Constance had a standing appointment with a few of her other friends in the Gobstones club.

Unfortunately her first impression of the man was not a very good one, as her knock on the door startled the poor man so much that he fell out of his chair into a heap of robes.

"W-who's there?" the man picked himself quickly off the ground. He was a tall and skinny man, with an incredibly narrow face and bright blue eyes. His hair was a dusty brown, short and dishevelled.

"I'm sorry to startle you professor—"

"Startle? You didn't startle me." He spoke quietly as he brushed dust off his robes, "I was just looking for my er quill, that I dropped." He looked rather put out.

Cassiopeia fought the urge to raise her eyebrows; she didn't want to start off on a bad footing with the man.

"Right, of course sir. I er, well my name is Cassiopeia Tonks, and I wondered if I could ask you a few questions."

The Professor eyed her suspiciously, his gaze lingering on the crest emblazoned on her robes. "And just what would those questions be? You are a first year if I am not mistaken? With all due respect it is highly unusual for a first year to approach me, especially one from your particular house."

It was true that muggle studies wasn't a popular elective in the Slytherin house, but that was beside the point. "I actually had a few questions about muggle technology sir and wondered if you had some time to help me." She tried to keep her face hopeful and her posture non-threatening.

The man was slightly taken aback by her response, but the suspicion still laced his tone as he hesitantly waved for her to continue. "You know muggle studies isn't until your third year." He reminded her uselessly. Nevertheless he carefully sat down at his desk and gestured to a desk in the empty classroom.

"I was wondering if you could help me with a particular problem I've been having with my music player." She carefully removed her Walkman and set it on her desk.

"Ah." He relaxed into his chair slightly, "A muggle born I take it?" he asked curiously, eyeing her.

Her head jerked, a reflex, "Pure blood sir, but I spent a portion of my childhood in the muggle world." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. He was probably a clever man; he had to be one to work at Hogwarts. Her statement directly contradicted the story she was selling with her new identity. But it was too late, and he chose not to comment on it.

He sniffed, "You would know if you read Hogwarts, A History—"

"That muggle technology doesn't work in Hogwarts. Yes sir, I've both read that and have personally noticed." A trace of irritation worked its way into her tone at his mild condescension.

"If you've already discovered this, then why are you here then?" He sounded bored and eyed the book pile on his desk longingly.

"I don't understand what interacts with muggle technology for it to cease to work. We have the wizarding wireless; music players that are ostensibly the same, that work perfectly well. Magic can do great and terrible things, and I refuse to believe that the answer is as simple as it doesn't work." She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her irritation, "Sir." She added hastily.

He sighed, and looked up at the ceiling as if in silent prayer for her immediate disappearance. "Every year I have a muggle born student ask me a variation of the question you are asking, and every year I ask them to theorise what magic would be required to sustain muggle devices, and why its never been discovered and circulated amongst the wizarding world." He was both exasperated and bored.

"Until you have a sufficient answer to those questions, I would ask you to leave." He was already pulling a few books closer to him as he silently dismissed her.

"It hasn't been circulated because most of the wizarding world doesn't care to find out." She understood this and stayed stubbornly in her chair, refusing to be dismissed.

The professor appraised her over his book briefly before returning to it.

"That is one answer certainly, and not far off the base. But what about my other question, how and why would one even begin to unpick the issue when we can just simply move onto listening to the wizarding wireless. There are a few stations that even cater to muggle music I hear."

"We would have to replace the battery power with magic power. There is obviously something about battery electricity that reacts poorly to magic. Either discover a way to fix this negative reaction or simulate the power of electricity. I would imagine simulation of charged particles would be easier and quicker. The rest is purely mechanical, independent of magic." She thought about her brief time in her schools A/V club, building radios. She had always been fascinated about the electricity in the muggle world. It was their answer to magic, a force of nature that in some ways worked better than magic. After all they had landline telephones and pagers, while the wizarding world still used owl to communicate. She personally thought it was a disgrace that pride and tradition held back the wizarding world so.

Professor Quirrell was paying attention now, his head cocked to the side as he considered her reasoning. "A few have tried to simulate electricity in the past, but none have published their results as far as I am aware." He was quiet; she could practically hear him turning over the problem in his head.

"I assume you'll be wanting help in this quest of yours to power your music. I warn you that it will not be an easy process, and may possibly take years and will require a higher understanding of magical theory and design. Something most seventh year students struggle with let alone a first year. And certainly nothing any muggle studies student of mine will ever be capable of." He sank further into his chair, wondering.

"I understand professor, its why I wondered if you could help me. I understand the circuitry within the player; I've even built a few similar when I lived in the muggle world. But the theory is so far beyond me," she blew out her cheeks, remembering the brief foray she had in the library with a few of the higher-level spell theory books. It was so confusing and intricate, written entirely in runes in some sections. She gave up very quickly.

"I promise I will do anything that it will take to convince you to help me." She was sincere, life without her music was difficult. It was one of the only things that she took solace in and that could quieten her mind. She missed it as one would miss a limb.

The professor was quiet, looking torn between the two options in front of him. He stared once again longingly at his book before sighing and closing it.

"Two hours a week during an evening session, pending approval with the headmaster obviously. I cant afford to give you any more time on this fools errand of yours. If I feel you are not adequately contributing, or at least making an effort to learn from these sessions I will cancel them. And if you miss one without good cause I will also stop. I make no promises on success, in fact we will probably fail." His voice was quiet, resigned to the new responsibility he was taking on.

Cassiopeia was equal parts overjoyed and dismayed. It was far more than she had even dared to hope for, but she was also cognisant of her detentions every evening. She voiced these concerns aloud and the professor paled and shrunk into his desk when he heard she was serving detentions with Professor Snape.

"You must discuss that with him. I am not available any other time than Thursday evenings. Six to eight pm. come back to me when you have an answer." She listened to his dismissal this time, glumly placing her Walkman back into her bag.

It was back to the drawing board for the short term, at least until she finished the remaining month of her two month punishment. She had detentions scheduled until the Christmas break, essentially ruining any chances she had at starting on this particular problem.

With a dull resignation she continued on with her life.

Listening to Constance talk, occasionally making eye contact with Charlie Weasley, who would always smile but continue conversations with his friends. Despite being in the same place she almost never saw Charlie, he was always busy or distracted whenever she tried to talk to him. She got signal that she wasn't as welcome as she thought she'd be when he was with his friends and had stopped trying.

Nymphadora was friendly and even spent some time with both her and Constance, the pair chatting away with Cassiopeia in companionable silence. It was nice, to feel included without having to be in the middle of the conversation. Both girls understood that she wasn't much of a talker, and filled the silence without cutting her out of the conversations. She appreciated it.

It was the week before Christmas holiday when an unlikely solution to her Walkman problem manifested in the form of Professor Flitwick. He asked her to stay after class one day, and with a small knot of dread in her stomach she slowly packed up her class supplies and waited for the room to empty out. A few Ravenclaw students shot her glares as they emptied out at a glacial pace, no doubt hoping to overhear what the professor wanted to say.

She worried someone had sabotaged her written assignment, or that he had overheard something about her that wasn't exactly pleasant. She respected Professor Flitwick greatly and did genuinely care about his opinion of her. For a horrifying moment she worried that Professor Snape had told him about her real heritage and that he asked her to stay behind to discuss it.

Her dread lessened when she caught the wide grin on the professor's face as he beamed up at her. He was practically bouncing with excitement. "Miss Tonks, I was talking to Professor Quirrell and he informed me of your interest in working with him on a side project in the evenings. Though I must admit I wish you had approached me with your project, but Professor Quirrell certainly knows more about the muggle world than I, and is indeed quite brilliant."

She smiled sadly at the small professor's exuberance, "Professor Quirrell was very accommodating, but unfortunately I am serving detention with Professor Snape for uhm, well for a little longer." She didn't really want to bring up her duelling with Professor Flitwick. Not while he was in such a good mood.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I spoke to the headmaster about it, and he in turn spoke to Professor Snape. He has agreed to let you have Thursday nights off on the condition that you refrain from earning any more detentions and make up the time with an added two weeks in the new term. Excluding Thursdays of course.

You are also going to have to keep both Professor Snape and the headmaster apprised of your progress by writing monthly updates of your progress on the side project with Professor Quirrell. And if you wouldn't mind keeping me in mind as well, I would love to keep track of your progress." The man was literally bouncing with excitement.

"It is so refreshing to have such a bright and curious first year, I must say I am a little jealous of Professor Snape that you ended up in the Slytherin house! I am sure we can expect great things from you in the future!" He was grinning broadly, waiting to see her reaction to the good news.

She couldn't believe it; it was almost too good to be true. She almost hugged the little man, "Thank you Professor, and of course ill come to you for help. Any reading you can suggest would be brilliant. I have a lot of ground to cover."

"Just remember, the next time someone insults your friends, you can bring them straight to me instead of taking matters into your own hands. Duelling other students is a very serious infraction. If you make a pattern of it, I'm afraid it would reflect poorly on you later in life." With his final warning he happily furnished her with a substantial reading list and sent her on her way.

That night during her detention Snape was unusually quiet and dismissive, giving her a particularly horrible and smelly pile of cauldrons to scrub. But he didn't bring up the change in their arrangement, and she didn't dwell on it, her mind instead occupied with the titles of the list Professor Flitwick had given her.

She wasn't sure why Professor Snape had relented on his detentions, or why the headmaster had allowed such an unusual arrangement, but she decided that for once she wasn't going to over analyse everyone's motives. She would just accept it and be thankful.

Naturally she was up half the night wondering about everyone's individual motives.

 _A/N Sorry its been a while guys! I had caught up to where I had written to and didnt have to time to write more. Mostly because my outline for Cassiopeia's life was a bit empty in the earlier years. But I have been spending the time researching trauma, reading first hand accounts of people who have lived with abuse in their childhood, how they view the world and interact with it. Patterns of abuse and obsessive behaviours._

 _My outline for her first few years at Hogwarts is still a little thin, but once she gets into puberty and matures in her magical skills some more, the shit is really going to go down. I feel like I should warn you now, that life is not going to get easier to cassiopeia for a very long time, and her Hogwarts years will not be an entirely happy story. She may have a family that supports her, but she doesnt believe in that support. she is suspicious and is always waiting for people to show their true faces. She spends hours analysing peoples motives, and finds evidence for her beliefs._

 _Also, if youre confused about Quirrell, he was actually the muggle studies teacher until he took up the DADA post in Harry's first year (like 1991?) after he took a year sabbatical to go find himself. He acquired the turban and the stutter after he returned from his somewhat disastrous grand tour. Before them he was a brilliant, timid, and often bullied professor. But a born Ravenclaw with a thirst for knowledge I expect he couldnt resist cassiopeia's magical conundrum as a problem whose solution should be straightforward, but has always proved elusive. Also he must be curious about her own experience with the circuitry, something he doesnt understand well beyond the basics._

 _As always please review, it helps me justify that im not writing towards an empty void._

 _Thanks for reading,_

 _Tibys_


	8. Chapter 8:Christmas

Cassiopeia learned a few things about Professor Quirrell very quickly as she started her personal lessons with him. He was incredibly brilliant; his theoretical knowledge of magic was impressive, at least to her uneducated mind. She also learned that he was incredibly timid, easily frightened, and very socially awkward. In a lot of ways she liked him more for all of those qualities. He was very easy to read, a quality that was emphasized by his social awkwardness. He just did not know how to be devious. Because of this she almost felt like she could trust him and relax a little.

They only managed to get in one lesson, which ran over, before the Christmas holiday. He had spent the whole time explaining the very basics of spell construction. Or at the very least he tried to. A few tangents and history lessons later she was totally enraptured, and no where near understanding the magnitude of what they were trying to accomplish with creating a new spell.

From what she understood was that magic was a force of a nature, one that a few certain humans could tap into and manipulate. In the very distant past people interacted with magic in a very primal way, through emotions and powerful intents. This was before the days of wands or formalised spells. Magic then was much like magic was for children, random and tied to the individual person's emotional state.

She had interrupted Quirrell at this point, making the correlation to curses and emotions. The power of the curse was directly correlated to the feelings of the caster. For example one couldn't curse someone effectively that they didn't truly hate, it was the emotions that fueled the power. He paused to study her carefully, but didn't question her understanding of curse casting, just accepted that she had a (hopefully) theoretical understanding. He explained that because an emotion was the basest way to access magic, they had a very powerful effect. They fueled both curses and protection spells, such as a Patronus. With magic, intent was everything.

Over the years people began to notice that certain intents and wills could be condensed into words that could reliably have the same reaction. Spells. Nobody is really sure why certain words carry the power of intent, and there were lots of different theories, Quirrell had gone on a tangent that got very philosophical and a bit over her head for a while at this point.

When he got back onto point he started discussing spell diagrams. At some point someone discovered a method to creating new spells, a way to organise internalised vague intents into clear, defined characteristics. A spell diagram. These diagrams forced the magic user to clearly understand every aspect of the spell, and were the foundation of all new magics.

The more powerful the spell, the more complicated the diagram. Every witch and wizard was unique in how they individually ordered their own diagrams, but there were certain rules that most followed. Because Quirrell was going to be doing most of the spell diagramming they would follow his particular methods, which included a lot of ancient runes and latin. He sent her home with a few useful tomes to learn the basics, but acknowledged that she wouldn't be able to completely understand for many, many years.

Her main homework assignment over the upcoming holiday break was to read as much as she could about batteries, electricity, latin, ancient runes, and circuitry. He wanted her to come back from the break with the understanding of every component that made electronics work, and exactly how the power sources work. He would need this information before he could start working on magical simulations.

She left the lesson with her head feeling full. It was a type brain dead that she experienced only a few times after a particularly intensive study session. She was exhausted and decided to retire to bed early that night, unable to even think about opening another book to distract herself. That night she dreamt of spell diagrams and lightening.

Christmas break was finally upon the students, and electric excitement ran throughout the student body. The castle had been transformed into a winter wonderland, with magical displays of Christmas cheer. Cassiopeia found it equal parts fascinating and irritating. The enchanted snow somehow always managed to attach itself to her, and she couldn't venture outside without someone throwing a snowball at her. The culprits varied from light hearted fun seekers such as Constance or Daniel, to friendly teasing from Dora, or malicious strikes from anonymous members of the Slytherin house.

She packed to return home with a small ball of trepidation in her stomach. She had never really celebrated Christmas before, and wondered what her first Christmas would be like with the Tonks Family. She understood there was supposed to be an exchange of gifts, but she had never experienced such a thing so she was shooting in the dark. She also understood that friends and family were expecting presents, meaning she would have to also have to find something for both Constance and Daniel. She understood these things theoretically, but had no idea how to accomplish them, or even what to buy them. It worried her, but she decided to try and put it out of her mind until she was back home. Dora had mentioned that maybe they'd be allowed to take a trip to Diagon Alley to go shopping.

The train ride back to London she spent her time reading from a few books she borrowed from Professor Flitwick and Quirrell and talking to Daniel and Constance, whom she shared a train carriage with. They talked happily amongst themselves, having bonded over the first term over a shared love of Gobstones and muggle fantasy novels. The discussed the stories in great detail, both stopping to fill Cassiopeia in on the finer points of the plot that she needed to know to understand their discussions. She appreciated their attempt to include her but eventually excused herself from a particularly intense debate over a fictional character to do some of her own homework. Both Daniel and Constance lightly teased her for being sorted into the wrong house, but allowed her to continue.

The farther they got from Hogwarts the more hope she had that her Walkman would start working again. Sure enough, a few hours into the train ride, she was able to lose herself into a world of music for the first time in months. She completely checked out of the happenings in the train carriage and listened.

So lost was she that she nearly fell off her seat when someone shook her out of her stupor. It was Nymphadora, grinning widely; holding a pile of treats from the trolley the size of a small mountain. She saw her friends already attacking the pile, still arguing over the victor in some fictional battle in the book they were reading.

"alrigh' Dora." She mumbled, pulling her headphones off her head.

"Alright Cass. I thought I'd check in on you, glad I did. You haven't eaten yet have you? Always with your head in a book." She grinned and gestured to the mountain of sweets, "Luckily for you, I am amazing and have brought only the most unhealthy treats ever."

"Thanks, Dora. Are you staying for a bit?" she asked while grabbing a cauldron cake from the pile. She was fascinated by the variety of sweets available in the wizarding world. It was exciting to be finally experiencing it first hand, having not really eaten many sweets growing up.

"I can stay for a bit, what're you listening to so intently." Dora asked curiously. And thus began an hour-long conversation with her sister about the joys of muggle music.

It wasn't long before her Walkman was being passed around the train carriage, with each member enraptured by the different sounds. This continued until the Hogwarts Express pulled into Kings Cross station in London.

Andromeda and Ted were anxiously waiting for the two children, excited to have some life back in their house and eager to hear how the first term had gone for both children. Nymphadora ran into her parent's arms, giving them each a large hug, and waved goodbye to her friends. Cassiopeia was not so exuberant in her greeting, instead stopping a meter or so away from the couple and giving them a hesitant smile. Constance hovered nearby, wanting to introduce Cassiopeia to her parents who were hovering near the magical barrier, looking slightly dazed that they managed to make it onto the platform to begin with.

Ted broke the distance between them and the girl by stepping forward and wrapping Cassiopeia in a large hug. The girl tensed with the contact, didn't quite return the hug, but let it happen nonetheless. She was a little more prepared for Andromeda's hug, which wasn't quite as all encompassing as Teds, but tender all the same.

"Wow Cass, you look just like your mom!" exclaimed Constance, looking between the older woman and her friend. Both Cassiopeia and Andromeda blushed slightly, each taken slightly by surprise by the outburst.

"Er… yeah, I guess we look similar." Cassiopeia muttered, ducking her head to hide behind her unruly curls, fingering her silver bracelet nervously.

"And you look nothing like your father! How funny how that happens some times." Constance continued, totally oblivious to the embarrassment of the Tonks family.

Ted was the first to recover, joining in on her laughter, "You're right, our Cassiopeia here is all Black sister, and very little if any Tonks. But we still love her all the same." He said jovially, gently squeezing Cassiopeia's shoulder. The girl hunched in on herself as she took in his words. She knew he probably didn't mean it that way, but it sounded as if he was distancing the Tonks name from her. But that was silly, he was happy she took his name, right? It was something she'd have to think about later.

"And just who might you be?" Andromeda asked curiously, wrapping her arm lovingly around her other daughter.

"Oh right, er… this is my, uh, friend. Constance. She's in Hufflepuff." Cassiopeia swallowed thickly, her face burning, "And Constance, this is my, erm, parents. Ted and Andromeda Tonks." The words sounded forced and false even to her own ears.

Constance ogled her friend, a wide smile on her face, "You're so weird Cass, you call your parents by their first name?! It's why we're friends. Nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Tonks. Oh, I think I see my parents over there, come on Cass, I want to introduce you to them too!"

Constance didn't give Cassiopeia a chance to respond before pulling her away from the awkward Tonks family over to the her two parents, both of whom looked completely discomforted by their surroundings. They beamed however when they caught sight of their daughter running towards them.

"Mom! Dad! I wanted you to meet my friend Cassiopeia! I told you all about her already in my owls. I wanted to introduce you to my other friend Daniel but I lost track of him already. Cass, these are my parents." She was positively beaming in her exuberance. Her parents smiled kindly at Cassiopeia. Unlike Constance's own comparisons with her 'parents', there was not a doubt in her mind that Constance was their child. She was a perfect mix of the two adults in front of her. Her mother was a relatively short, well rounded woman with soft, straight auburn hair and thick rimmed glasses. Her father was taller than his wife, though not tall by any means, with bright green eyes and a body that was dominated by his reasonably sized belly. They both seemed absolutely lovely.

"Cassiopeia, a pleasure to meet you. Our Constance has told us all about you in her letters home. It's rather amazing isn't it, all of this? And Owls for letters. She mentioned you had spent some time in uh, what do you call it? Our world?" Mrs Green said, her voice warm and welcoming.

Cassiopeia felt a twinge of guilt. She had apparently been the subject of many letters home to Constance's parents, and yet she hadn't mentioned her at all in a single letter to the Tonks. In fact, she simply hadn't written a single letter home in her first term. Perhaps that was a bit unusual, she'd have to do more research to be sure.

"Yes, a few years." She said simply, trying her best to smile.

"Well, if you ever have a chance you must come over for dinner some time over break. Do you have a landline in your house, or only, erm, owls?" Mr Green asked, stumbling a little at what was once a preposterous question.

"Yes sir, Ted, uh my father is muggle born, we have a phone as well as a family owl." It was strange to openly refer to Ted as her father. He was miles better than her own real father, but it still left a funny taste in her mouth.

Mr Green beamed, "Brilliant, here is our number. Why don't you have him ring us so we can set something up." He handed Cassiopeia a card with his name and number written on it. "It was lovely meeting you Cassiopeia, but we must be going, we have a train to catch after all!" Mrs Green said happily, and with a final, mildly awkward hug, Constance departed with her family.

"Nice girl." Ted remarked when she made her way back. Cassiopeia shrugged and handed him the business card, "Mr Green wanted you to ring him, something about setting up a dinner or something." She fingered her bracelet and looked away, embarrassed by the presumption. She held her breath, waiting for the Tonks response to her making plans without approving it. She let it out slowly when Andromeda exclaimed it was a brilliant idea, and Ted agreed.

They departed shortly after, bound for Ted's parents house in South London. Since they were in the city they thought they would visit and introduce them to Cassiopeia. Nymphadora complained loudly about how she just wanted to go home, or anywhere that wasn't filled with stuffy old people but neither child was really given a choice.

Cassiopeia followed silently, boarding the underground on the muggle side of Kings Cross and wondered about her own grandparents. She had never met them, or even heard of them before. She wondered what their names were, and what type of people they were. She wondered if they were even still alive. She had four of them; surely they couldn't all be dead? She wondered what type of relationship they had with their children, if they had one. Were they proud of them? Of Bellatrix and Rudolphus? She frowned as she imagined their faces and their life stories.

Ted's parents house was every bit as stuffy as Dora complained it would be. They lived in a small house along a row of identical houses in a suburb of London. Inside was like an explosion of lace doilies and porcelain figurines, from dolls to animals. Everything was pale pink and creams. Mrs Tonks met them at the door, welcoming everyone with hugs and kisses on the cheek. Cassiopeia entered last, and Mrs Tonks smiling face soured a little as she looked down her nose at the latest familial addition.

"You must be that strange girl. The niece." She said quietly. She wasn't quite in rude territory with her tone, but Cassiopeia felt that she might have been close.

"Lestrange mam, though its Tonks now." Cassiopeia ground out, glancing away in embarrassment. The older woman just sniffed disdainfully before turning to the others. Mrs Tonks had prepared a afternoon tea, complete with cucumber finger sandwiches and slices of Battenburg. She ushered everyone into the sitting room, and with Andromeda's help everyone was served a plate with cucumber sandwiches, scones, jam, and cream. She notices Mrs Tonks gave Cassiopeia a slightly burnt scone and the smallest piece of sandwich, but she didn't dare complain. She still remembered times in her life where she wasn't given any food at all. Though some time had passed since then, it was still ingrained into her mind.

Mrs Tonks spent the whole evening monopolizing the conversation. Talking about the latest gossip in her sewing circle, updates on Mr Tonks latest job at the bank, what the neighbours were up to, and changes in the local town council. Ted and Andromeda were both engaged in conversation with Mrs Tonks. Mr Tonks gazed into the living room where the TV could be heard distantly, trying to catch a glimpse of the news reports. Mrs Tonks occasionally broke conversation to dote on Nymphadora, asking how school was coming along, and whether she had met any boys. Cassiopeia was notably left out of any such conversation, and was ignored totally.

Once tea was finished, Mrs Tonks bid everyone to retire into the living room while she cleared up.

"Ill give you a hand in clearing up Mary," Andromeda offered, standing and gathering the tea plates from around her.

"Oh no need, your niece can help me. Go on along into the room with Ted and Dora. We'll be along shortly." Her voice was pleasant but it was obvious it was not a question.

Cassiopeia gathered dishes silently and brought them into the kitchen to wash while Mrs Tonks dealt with the teapot and cups. It wasn't until they were alone and sounds of laughter and chatter emitted from the living did Mrs Tonks say anything.

"My son is too kind hearted you know, adopting strays like you." Gone was the pleasant tone, instead she was sharp, scrutinising the girl in front of her.

"Honestly, he told me all about you of course. Your parents, and your circumstances. If it were up to me I'd have left you in the system where you belong. Goodness knows what sort of problems you have." She continued

A sudden flash of irritation and shame burned in Cassiopeia, and she hid behind her curls. "Good thing it wasn't up to you." She retorted softly. That earned her a slap to the back of the head.

"Don't talk back to me girl. I know what you are; I know what you are capable of. And I may be normal, but if you so much as think about hurting that family in there you will have to deal with me." She warned.

Cassiopeia couldn't help but to laugh darkly, finding the situation absurd. A muggle like her posed no real threat, and Ted clearly didn't tell her everything. "Do you even know who my parents really were?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Evil wizards who are in prison for life for violent crimes." She responded stiffly, perturbed by the girls laughter.

"For torturing and murdering muggles like you. They killed dozens if not more people. I grew up in a house controlled by wizards who would kill you without a second thought, just for the fun of it. You think some meaningless words will frighten me, well you don't know what frightening is." She said darkly, keeping her voice quiet and her eyes averted.

Mrs Tonks paled considerably and couldn't hide the slight tremor in her hand. "Are you threatening me girl?" she asked hoarsely.

Cassiopeia sighed, trying to rein in her annoyance with the woman. "I don't need to threaten you. Andromeda and Ted know my past, know who I am and they still took me in. I would never do anything to hurt them." She finished quietly, returning to the dishes.

Mrs Tonks remained silent after that, her face drawn and pale. Cassiopeia was thankful when they finally left for home.

Xxx

Ted and Mr Green had kept in touch via telephone and had arranged for the girls to meet in Diagon Alley for a day of shopping, followed by dinner in a muggle pub. Somehow Andromeda has found out about her only other friend, Daniel Jones and had managed to owl his family the plans as well. She suspected her sister was heavily involved in that particular nugget of information.

Cassiopeia had mixed feelings about the trip. She was happy to see Daniel and Constance, especially together since their conversation styles tended to play off each other, taking the pressure of additional commentary off Cassiopeia a bit. But she also was aware she needed to do some much needed Christmas present shopping for the pair, something that would be quite impossible to do while they were together. Not that she had any idea what she was going to get either of them. She had never celebrated Christmas, and had never exchanged gifts with people so she really had no frame of reference to work from.

The adults gave the children some space as they walked down Diagon alley, keeping care to keep them in sight, but also allowing them their privacy. They paused a little ways down the street when they entered shops together but did not follow them in unless they were directly summoned.

Cassiopeia found the space at least a little relief. So she walked, listened to Constance and Daniel chat amicably about their winter holidays. She even contributed to the conversation, briefly detailing her time at the muggle library looking up more information about electrical currents and circuitry. Her friends both rolled their eyes and exclaimed in mock outrage how she really should have been a Ravenclaw. Cassiopeia shrugged and smiled, remaining silent through their exasperation, and continued window-shopping.

Personally she felt she would have made a terrible Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw's sought out knowledge for knowledge's sake. It was a naïve way to use ones intellect and to look at the world. Sure she spent the majority of her spare time reading and learning, but it was always for a reason.

Finally the group of children began to grow restless, each unsure of what they really wanted from all the stores and uncertain what to do if they weren't going to be shopping. Cassiopeia had already purchased Christmas presents for her sister, and for Ted and Andromeda.

"Anything you need to pick up Cassiopeia? Perhaps a book?" Daniel asked her teasingly. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked around at a few of the shop windows surrounding them.

"Honestly, the only thing I still need to buy is your Christmas presents. If that's alright?" she asked uncertainly. She still wasn't entirely certain that they were friends enough to exchange presents.

"I actually have to do the same, I have some ideas but well maybe we should split up for the next little bit and do some Christmas present shopping." Constance mused, Daniel was nodding, glancing around as well, "Yeah, I think we might as well do it now, when we have a chance. I don't know when I'll be back here."

Cassiopeia looked at her two friends and realised they didn't understand quite what she was asking, and a sudden warm feeling bloomed in her chest. They never once considered _not_ getting her a present it seemed. She had to find something perfect for the two of them.

The trio made their way back to the lingering adults and explained the situation. Andromeda had to get going to a previous appointment, and Ted was going in search for his wayward daughter who had disappeared with a group of her friends. Mr and Mrs Jones agreed to keep an eye on the children as they split up to their respective shopping, and to help Mr and Mrs Green acclimate to their new surroundings. It was agreed that they would all meet at the pub for dinner in a little over an hour.

And so Cassiopeia found herself alone, in silence, with a handful of gold coins, and a semi-present guardian. Initially she found it refreshing to be left to her own thoughts again, until she remembered her thoughts was not always a pleasant place. She focussed on the task at hand, finding the best Christmas presents for her newfound friends.

She was quickly overwhelmed. What was an appropriate present? How did she know if she was doing enough? What if she did too much? How much should be spend? Her head was spinning as she weighed her different options.

For Daniel she found an interactive map of the wizarding world. It replayed major historical events in full colour illustrations, everything from wars, famines, and changing borders. She thought he'd enjoy it given how interested in history he was. She had the map gift wrapped in the shop and continued on shopping for Constance.

She wanted something to show Constance that she really did think of her as a friend, even though she didn't always show it. She wanted to show the girl that she was appreciated. A matching set of charm bracelets caught her eye in a jewellery shop and she stared at them through the window. They were friendship bracelets, a pair of twinned bracelets that apparently they each wore. Cassiopeia rubbed her silver bracelet; she hated having things on her wrist generally, and didn't see the point of jewellery. And yet, these might not be the worst things, and she knew Constance would be over the moon about it.

So she went into the store to inquire about them. So focussed on her task that she was for once, completely oblivious to her surroundings. She mentally rehearsed on how she was going to talk to the shop lady, and fingered her money in her pocket. She didn't notice how quiet the store was compared to the bustling crowds outside, or that there was only one other shopper in the store. A woman whose eyes widened in surprise as she did a double take. Cassiopeia missed all these signs, instead peering into a case that had several different friend bracelet designs.

The woman who noticed Cassiopeia open and closed her mouth several times, wanting to catch the girl's attention but uncertain on what to say, so nothing came out. She rubbed her fingers together and took the moment to take the young girl in. She was small but not unhealthily so, her features hidden under a wild man of black curls, with deep bags under her eyes. She had her face so close to the display case that her nose was almost touching it, and her breath fogged it a little.

"Excuse me miss, anything I can help you with?" the shop assistant asked the young girl, her voice dripping in disdain. The shop assistant sneered a little as Cassiopeia twitched suddenly and took a half a step back, hiding behind her hair.

"Er, I'd like to buy one of those please." Her voice was soft, uncertain. "How much are they actually?"

The shop assistant rolled her eyes and sniffed. "Our cheaper bracelets are 10 Galleons for the pair."

"Oh." She said sadly, pulling out a handful of coins, she was close to that amount, but not quite there.

"Perhaps you're better off trying one the other, more common shops." The assistant dismissed her haughtily.

The girl started to glare but then deflated. It was the perfect gift, but just out of her price range. And it was clear that the witch behind the counter wanted her out of the shop.

"Cassiopeia." The woman in the shop finally gasped out, "Is it really you?" she asked, delicately brushing blonde hair behind her ear.

Cassiopeia paused as she noticed the other witch in the shop for the first time. The witch looked stricken, a mix of hope and sadness lining her features. She squared her shoulders and casually put her hands in her robes, grasping for her wand.

"How do you know my name?" she asked suspiciously, inching away from the other witch.

"You don't recognise me do you? How could you, we only met the once, all those years ago." The woman said sadly, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

Cassiopeia studied the woman carefully. She did look familiar. The witch was elegant; everything about her was put together and perfect. Not a hair was out of place, her make up was expertly done and her clothes were tailored exactly. She wore a few modest shining jewels in her ears and on her fingers; she was rich but not ostentatious. It was very tasteful she imagined.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Mrs. Malfoy here is the - is this girl bothering you?" the jeweller and shop owner emerged from the back of the store, holding a box in his hands, taking in the scene in front of him.

Mrs Malfoy.

Cassiopeia's shoulders tensed as she quickly glanced around looking for her husband. What was her name, she wracked her brain, "Narcissa. Aunt Narcissa right?"

They had met, once that she remembered. The woman's smiled in relief, her eyes shining.

"It really is you?" she clasped her hands together in front of her, "Merlin, forgive me, but after the, well after everything we tried to find you, only to see you shipped off, away to that awful place. And you're back now, and at Hogwarts. Of course. Slytherin I see."

A few tears did slip from her eyes; she brushed them away with a small embarrassed laugh, "look at me. I'm just so happy to see you, I wasn't sure we ever would after everything that happened. Please, Gerard, would you mind giving us a moment, Cassiopeia we must catch up, you should tell me everything that has happened to you since then." She was careful in choosing her words, not revealing too much about her past, about why they were separated.

Cassiopeia took a step back as Mrs Malfoy came closer presumably for an embrace.

"Right, of course. I am almost a complete stranger to you I guess. It was these you were looking at correct?" she gestured to the display case holding the bracelets,

"Gerard, have your assistant box up this pair and put them on my tab for my niece here Cassiopeia L—"

"Tonks. Cassiopeia Tonks. And that's not necessary Mrs Malfoy" She interrupted Mrs Malfoy.

Narcissa stilled for a moment, finally understanding. "Please box this up for Miss Tonks," her voice was cooler, slightly more subdued, "best put it in my name dear." She amended after a second.

"Please, Mrs Malfoy, you don't have to—"

"Oh hush Cassiopeia darling, it's the least I can do for you. Gerard, once your finished with that would you mind giving us a moment." She commanded the jeweller who was rushing to box up her order.

He bowed his head and grabbed his assistant and went into the back of the store with a solid click of the door. Narcissa smiled and stared at the girl in front of her, sadness radiating from every gesture. "I am so sorry Cassiopeia. We should have been there for you, even before— I can't even begin to describe my regrets" she shook her head, wiping another tear away. "Are you happy? Now? Do you need anything?"

She gulped, carefully taking the wrapped box in her hands. The Malfoy woman didn't seem like an immediate threat, but the whole situation was distinctly uncomfortable.

"I am well as can be Mrs Malfoy. With a family and enrolled in Hogwarts. Back where I belong." She carefully tucked the wrapped parcel into her pocket.

"Yes, family." She smiled wistfully, "Andy found you first. I am pleased you are safe. I have so many regrets about that time. I have thought about it, about you often, it was a different time, but I should've been there for you. Please, if you would permit me, I would love to take you out for dinner, get to know you a little better. And you can get to know us."

She seemed sincere, but Cassiopeia still hesitated. Narcissa seemed nice, but this was really only the second time she had met her. She really didn't know this woman. She remembered her husband and wasn't too keen on kindling a relationship with him.

"I'll think about it. And I'll have to talk to Andromeda about it first." She responded hesitantly. Narcissa looked both resigned and a little relieved, but she was interrupted before she could respond.

"Oi, Cass there you are!" exclaimed a loud voice behind her, as the owner came and gave her a side hug, ignoring the way the girl tensed. "Mum and dad are looking for you, its time to get some grub. Oh hello." Nymphadora, her hair now a shock of red, smiled briefly at Narcissa.

The door opened again, carrying a slightly irritated Ted, "Nymphadora what did I tell you about running off—oh" he took in the scene, his daughter with her arm wrapped around a very uncomfortable Cassiopeia, and Narcissa Malfoy. "Cass, its time to meet your friends for dinner." He eyed Mrs Malfoy warily.

Cassiopeia glanced between the two adults, Ted looked highly uncomfortable as he eyed the Malfoy woman with suspicion and slight dislike. She had never seen Ted ever look at someone with anything other than kindness and warmth. Narcissa had the beginning of a sneer on her face, hardly acknowledging Nymphadora's and Ted's presence. Instead she looked as if she were smelling a highly potent pile of dung.

"Please consider my offer Cassiopeia. And enjoy your bracelets. If you'll excuse me." Mrs Malfoy excused herself, leaving the shop quickly, sweeping past the Tonks as if they didn't exist.

"Rude." Nymphadora snorted as the door slammed shut. "Mrs Malfoy has been known to be just that. At least where we are concerned." Ted muttered darkly, watching her retreating form before turning back to Cassiopeia. "Though don't let my opinion influence yours, Cass. It was only a matter of time before you two met, though I wish it were later instead of sooner. We can talk about it later with Dromeda, but you should get to know her for yourself, form your own opinions. But for now, the pub awaits girls." Ted forced a smile on his face and injected as much good cheer as he could into his tone as he led his two girls out of the jewellery shop and back onto the streets of Diagon Alley.

The rest of the evening passed in laughter and smiles as the Greens acclimated to the wizarding world and as her family was introduced to her two friends. She was also pleased with her first ever Christmas present purchases, and was excited to present them to her friends and family.

Xxx

Cassiopeia woke up early on Christmas morning, electricity running through her veins. The previous night the whole family had a modest Christmas dinner and watched muggle movies about the holiday. Cassiopeia had never seen any of them before and was totally enraptured in A Christmas Carol particularly. She had even managed to sleep through the whole night without any nightmares and felt almost refreshed as she greeted the dawn. She was also surprised to hear movement already around the household. Glancing at her clock she realised it was actually much later than she initially expected. For the first time in her life she actually managed to have a bit of a lie in.

She climbed out of bed, eagerly wrapping a dressing gown over her pyjamas she made her way downstairs where she saw the whole of the Tonks family sitting in the living room, around a Christmas tree with a modest pile of presents underneath it.

"Finally! Mom she's up, can I start opening presents?" Nymphadora exclaimed, eagerly eyeing the tree.

"Go on you two, help yourselves." Ted said, wrapping his arm around his wife and smiling at his little family.

Nymphadora wasted no time attacking the tree, grabbing presents and tossing them to their respective owner and tearing into her own without abandon. Cassiopeia was a little more subdued and quiet, warmth filling her chest and her eyes burned slightly. She swallowed thickly and smiled as she took in the small pile of presents. She had never seen such spoils before and she was determined to treasure every single moment of it. She read every single card attached to the presents, noting whom they were from and committing it to memory before carefully peeled away the wrapping paper, methodically unwrapping the parcels. Every item to her was better than gold. From Mrs. Weasley she received a knit sweater in Slytherin colours and a box of home made biscuits, her favourite sort. She immediately put the sweater on over her pyjamas, and carefully opened the biscuit box, helping herself to just one. After that she received a book on useful charms from Daniel, and an enchanted notebook from Constance. The notebook changed colours and had a monstrous supply of paper contained within its small form. Constance wrote it was for her ongoing research projects.

"Merlin Cass, you sure are taking your time with those," Nymphadora exclaimed, the area around her a mess of ripped wrapping paper and tinsel. She had parcels littered around her and was already eating a box of Christmas sweets.

Cassiopeia blushed, "I want to enjoy every bit of this." She said quietly, moving onto the next parcel. She had several parcels from Andromeda and Ted respectively. Their presents ranged from the practical, a few sets of new robes, a scarf, and a hat for when she went back to school. Andromeda gave them both new pairs of slippers, and a fresh set of quills for school. Ted gave Nymphadora more sweets and a few muggle books on electronics for Cassiopeia. Nymphadora gave her a book on duelling techniques, with a small note written inside the cover saying that if she was going to duel, she might as well kick ass at it.

She was so touched by the pile of presents that she abruptly stood up and hugged every single person in the family. Ted and Andromeda stiffened with surprise, so used to the girl having a general aversion to touch, but they accepted it all the same quietly. "Blimey Cass, you're acting like you've never had Christmas presents before." Nymphadora joked, returning her sisters hug. Cassiopeia blushed and hid behind her hair, anxiously fiddling with her bracelet. Dora grew serious, reading her body language. "You have opened Christmas presents before right cass?"

"My er parents didn't really celebrate it. Neither did the muggles I was with." She shrugged and backed away slightly from the family, feeling suddenly awkward. Nymphadora opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Andromeda, "Cassiopeia, you still have one more present." Shooting her daughter a sharp look.

Cassiopeia looked in surprise and sure enough there was a small present still left, the parcel dwarfed by the letter that sat upon it. It was wrapped in green and silver, and she carefully lifted off the envelope.

"Who is it from?" Ted asked jovially, gathering up a plate of mince pies and putting it in his lap. She carefully opened the envelope and read the signature at the bottom. She swallowed, "its from Mrs Malfoy." She said quietly. Andromeda pursed her lips before trying to smile. She was almost convincing. "Go on then Cassiopeia, Nymphadora help me start cleaning up this mess." Andromeda said.

The letter was moderately long,

 _Dear Cassiopeia,_

 _I was so pleased to have seen you the other week in Diagon Alley. I have been wanting to write to you for weeks but was unable to find the right words to convey how I feel. Even as I write this I have a small pile of discarded letters around me. I know we are strangers to you, and that you have found some semblance of happiness with your new situation. I know you have no reason to indulge us, but we, myself and my husband Lucius and my son, your cousin, Draco, would love to have you over for dinner one night just to get to know each other. Or if that is too much, perhaps tea in Diagon Alley? I know a beautiful café that does the most delightful cakes._

 _It doesn't have to be now, I would settle for even just a written correspondence with you. I can not begin to describe the sorrow and regret I feel about the state of our current relationship. I should have been there more for you when you were younger, I know the environment cant have been the most nurturing of ones. It was my own selfishness that kept me away, I never did feel comfortable visiting the Lestrange Manor in the later years, when you were a child for entirely unrelated reasons. This is a poor excuse for my absence in your life, and if you would indulge me, I would like to start making amends for that._

 _If you need anything Cassiopeia, please do not hesitate to contact me. I promise that anything you tell me I will keep in the strictest of confidence. I hope that you can one day confide in me as a friend, and I dream of the day we can gossip about boys, hair, and makeup. You can owl at any time and I will always be available to you now._

 _I hope you enjoy this present; it is the first of many I hope, as I so wish to have a girl to spoil. It is but a small token, a family heirloom that I think would look fetching on you. If you would like I can show you a few ways to style it._

 _Happy Christmas Cassiopeia, from all of us here at the Malfoy Manor,_

 _Your aunt,_

 _Narcissa Malfoy_

She folded up the letter wordlessly, frowning slightly. She wasn't sure what to think about the Malfoy matriarch. During her brief meeting she hadn't been able to get a good enough read on her to really form an opinion. She opened the box carefully and beautiful silver hair comb fell out, encrusted with small green and white jewels. It was exquisitely made, the jewels made perfect little flowers. She had no idea how to even begin to use such a hair comb and had no idea how to even style her hair appropriately for it. Most days she left her hair to run wild, it was nearly impossible to comb and despite Andromeda's best efforts, she hadn't been able to learn how to tame her impossible mound of curls. She tossed the comb back into the box and put it in her small pile of presents.

"So what did the old snob say then?" Dora asked curiously, ignoring the sharp looks from her parents. Cassiopeia shrugged, glancing carefully at Andromeda who was silently picking up pieces of wrapping paper.

"She wants to meet me. She wants us to have more of a relationship. Its all rubbish though, I mean she's basically a stranger." Cassiopeia tried to shrug it off nonchalantly.

"You should take her up on the offer and meet her. You might get along. Family is important, you shouldn't reject part of your family because of my own personal relationships with them." Andromeda was quiet but firm. "At the very least think about it. I mean it, Cissy might be good for you. She always had a way of bringing people out of their shells." She smiled sadly, lost in memory.

"Well I personally wouldn't have anything to do with that snobby hag," Dora exclaimed, earning a slap in the head from her father. She grinned, rubbing the spot. "Now about breakfast, I'm famished mom." Andromeda smiled indulgently at her daughter and ushered them all into the kitchen as conversation turned to lighter topics.

xxx

The rest of the holidays passed in a rush, luckily Ted's parents decided to spend the New Years in Ibiza at a holiday resort instead of in England, so the family decided to celebrate at home, marathoning movies. There had beene a few more visits to the arcade during the day, something which Cassiopeia dominated at, and they even had time to make it to a roller rink, something Nymphadora was particularly good at. Cassiopeia fell half a dozen times before giving up and reluctantly agreed to hold Andromeda's hand as she learned how to manoeuvre on the roller skates.

She reluctantly wrote a quick missive to her Aunt Narcissa, politely thanking her for the Christmas present, but was vague about her offer to meet up. She suggested maybe during the Easter break, but refused to make any solid plans. She had to think things through before taking the step.

It wasn't long until Cassiopeia found herself reuniting with her friends on the Hogwarts Express, both Daniel and Constance filled her in on their holiday, and for once Cassiopeia found she could talk at length at the events over her own holiday. They listened to her tape player for part of the journey and when it cut out as they neared the castle, the trio changed into their uniforms and continued their happy chatter.

She smiled later that evening, recalling the events of the break and her conversations with her friends fondly. She performed her nightly silencing ritual, casting the spell upon herself and sighed happily. She was beginning to feel finally at home.

The nightmares that came that night were vague and far away, barely depriving her of any sleep. All in all it had been a good day, and a good few weeks.

 _A/N Again sorry for the pause. I am still working on this story full time, I swear! planning scenes and figuring out everything. Ive honestly been super busy with real work, but that should be slowing down, and I can finally take time to write fun things like this story, as im still bursting with inspirations and idea (admittedly for the later years. Her young years might fly by a bit...) Hope you enjoy, and please review if you have the time! The feedback really helps, good or bad!_


	9. Chapter 9: Second Term

Her first day back was a harsh slap of reality for Cassiopeia. She woke up with all of her school robes mysteriously ripped and stained, with all of her dorm mates feigning ignorance. She glared around at the girls who chatted amicably amongst themselves, completely ignoring her existence. With an irritated huff she dug through her spell books looking for something to mend and clean them.

By the time she managed to make one of the robes presentable she was running late. She hurried to the great hall, now mostly deserted, quickly gulped down as much coffee as humanly possible, scalding her mouth and throat, and practically ran to her transfiguration class. Despite her best efforts she was still five minutes late, Professor McGonagall frowned in disapproval and deducted 10 points from her.

She glowered but knew better than to respond to the Professor who still remembered very clearly her duelling incident the previous term. She quietly took her usual seat next to Daniel in the back of the classroom; he smiled grimly and gave her a conciliatory pat on the back.

Her day continued to get worse as seemingly anonymous students in the corridors cast jinxes on her, causing her to stumble, trip, or flinch with unexpected stings. It was always when the corridors were busy and when she couldn't identify the culprit. It seemed her classmates had finally realised that they couldn't stand toe to toe with her but could certainly hide in plain sight, causing little annoyances that would eventually build up. It was very Slytherin of them, and she had to admit, it was a clever development.

So she endured throughout the day, keeping an eye out for rogue spell casting and dodging a few poorly aimed jinxes. But despite her best efforts she never caught sight of the culprits. Due to her late start in the morning and the scant amounts of coffee, she arrived to detention that evening with Professor Snape in a state of near exhaustion, irritated and with a pounding headache. It was all she could do to refrain from snarling and snapping at the dour professor, who glared at her darkly when she entered.

Her detention started uneventfully, Snape had her scrubbing foul, smelly, sticky cauldrons for the night. The sound of her scrubbing echoed off the dungeon walls, mingling with the scratch of the professor's quill as he graded papers. He was silent and she had little inclination to start a conversation with her head of house. She just wanted to keep her head down and make it through her last few weeks of detention without incident. Scrubbing cauldrons however was not very mentally stimulating and Cassiopeia found her eyelids growing heavy with the day's exhaustion. She did not caffeinate enough in the morning and she was really starting to struggle. She tried to spend time mentally reciting information about circuitry and electrical plans to stay awake. She imagined how she could explain it to the odd muggle studies professor, and dreamed of having her music back.

Unfortunately her efforts to stay mentally distracted failed and it wasn't long until her mind started to wander. She thought about Ted and his family, their reluctance to acknowledge her and his careful distancing her from his name at the beginning of the Christmas holidays. She wondered if his mother had told him of her not threat, and if that was why they decided to go to Ibiza.

Thinking of Ted's family brought her to her own family. Andromeda never really spoke about her childhood, and Cassiopeia wondered how she was at school. She knew she had been in Slytherin; did she ever get bullied like Cassiopeia was? Was her mother ever bullied?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, the quill scratching paused as Professor Snape looked up from his desk, irritation flashing across his face.

"Enter" He called lowly.

Mr Filch, the caretaker, poked his head into the classroom, looking equal parts gleeful and nervous. "Professor Snape sir, I found something that I think you should see."

"Can it not wait Filch?" Severus ground out irritably, glancing pointedly at the student currently serving detention, and the stack of papers on his desk.

"Some graffiti sir in the corridors, I thought you should take a look before I start cleaning it." Filch explained.

Professor Snape scowled and sighed, shooting a dark look at Cassiopeia. "Don't even think about moving or you will find your detentions extended. I will be back shortly" Cassiopeia nodded dutifully, and put on what she hoped was an innocent look.

"Of course professor." With a final warning glare, Professor Snape swept out of the classroom to follow the oily caretaker.

Cassiopeia sighed loudly and rubbed her eyes, taking care not to get cauldron gunk on her face, and continued her train of thought.

Could anyone really bully Bellatrix Lestrange? Was she always so ruthless or did she become that way after years of hardship at Hogwarts? She tried to imagine her mother sitting in classes, being polite to the professors, and trying to compete for the house cup. She thought of her father, he had always been so nonchalant around her, was he like that in school as well? Quietly superior to everyone around him?

Her eyes felt heavy. She rubbed them again.

Did Andromeda spend a lot of time with Bellatrix? Or Narcissa? Had they all been close as children? They must've been once, she decided. It seemed natural for siblings to be close; she witnessed it amongst her classmates. She wondered what it was like, to have a sibling. Well she did have Dora, but to grow up with a sibling. Would that have made things better or worse?

She blinked, her head nodding, and tried to focus on scrubbing. A loud yawn escaped her. Another blink, it was starting to become very difficult to stay awake, her limbs were starting to get heavy. She gritted her teeth and tried to scrub even harder to stay awake.

Did her mother ever find her bullies? Did she hurt them when she was with the Dark Lord? She pondered the types of spells she might have used, pushing her further down the dark train of thought. She thought of all the curses she had witnessed Bellatrix use. She blinked, this time taking several seconds to re-open her eyes. The Cruciatus, she definitely would have used that curse on someone that had hurt her. She swallowed thickly and closed her eyes as she remembered vividly the bodily effects of that curse.

She was back in an empty room in the Lestrange Manor; she was sprawled across the ground in the middle of the room, crying so hard she felt as if she couldn't breathe. The after effects of the Cruciatus curse left her limbs feeling sore as they trembled uncontrollably, spasming with small aftershocks of pain. She was finding it difficult to control her breathing, to ease the pain. Actually, she really couldn't breath, her mother was using a Suffocant curse on her, she felt the magic squeezing her lungs, causing her to gasp helplessly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, in futility. Her chest burned, and her eyes burned with tears as they bulged in panic.

Bellatrix released the curse suddenly, and gave her a blessed few seconds to catch her breath. Cassiopeia gulped down air desperately, before curling herself into a little ball.

"Tell me what you did Cassie. Tell me why mommy is angry."

Cassiopeia gasped a few more times, sucking in air greedily. "I'm s-s-sorry mother" she groaned before crying out in pain as Bellatrix shot a hex at her prone form, searing her skin.

"Don't make me repeat myself Cassie." Her voice was low; she was beginning to lose patience.

"I…" she sniffed but didn't dare rub the burn she knew was forming on her back. "I smiled at a mudblood. I didn't know mother, please, I didn't know." She cried. Her stomach cramped painfully and she heaved.

"And…" Bellatrix drawled, looking in disgust at the girl in front of her.

"And-" she heaved again, her whole body shaking with tremors, "And I spoke to it. The mudblood." She felt something thick and slimy move in her stomach. She heaved again, feeling whatever it was move partially up her digestive tract.

"And—" Her mother twirled her wand, her eyes wide, taking in her daughter, judging her for her transgression.

Hot tears burned a trail down Cassiopeia's face as her mouth filled with saliva; she heaved one more time, feeling the slimy object almost reach her throat this time.

"And I deserve to be punished" it came out as a hoarse whisper, moments before another large stomach cramp forced her to finally vomit whatever her mother had put in her stomach. She stared in horror as large, slimy, fat slugs fell out of her mouth, still writhing on the ground in front of her. She could barely gather air as more and more slugs erupted from her stomach, their slime filling her nasal passages, and taste tainting her taste buds, bringing on a fresh wave of dry heaving.

"I'm sorry mother, I wont disobey you again, I'm sorry" she repeated it like a mantra, whenever she had spare breath.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. She curled away from it, turning in on herself, spewing a fresh wave of apologies. "I'm sorry mother, its all my fault, I deserve this punishment, please mother, I'm sorry." She gasped, trying to hide her face from her mother. Bellatrix hated it when she cried, she found it disgraceful, it was weak, and Lestrange's were not weak.

The hand shook her more forcefully, and jerked away, trying to control her breathing. If she didn't her mother would surely punish her more. She felt a hand on her face, and someone put something to her lips.

Spicy cinnamon caused her eyes to fly open, her heart raced, and energy flooded her system with alertness and alarm. She was in the dungeon in Hogwarts, and Professor Snape was kneeling in front of her, a holding a potion vial to her lips. Her eyes darted around wildly, trying to understand what was happening, searching for the danger, for her mother.

Professor Snape was alone, and she was slumped over the now mostly clean cauldrons, sitting on the dungeon floor, leaning against the wall. Whatever had been in the potion felt like lightening through her veins, like the best caffeine rush that she had ever experienced, she was alert, awake, and very aware of the potions master in front of her.

His eyes were searching, his eyebrows were pinched slightly, and he was frowning. She swallowed, finding her throat scratchy and raw. It took her too long to realise what had happened, and when she did she blushed deeply and hid behind her hair. She must have fallen asleep, and she had a nightmare, of her mother. A seemingly very vocal nightmare that the professor had witnessed. She anxiously fiddled with her silver bracelet, now resting next to Constance's friendship bracelet in total mortification.

She sat up straighter, and began scrubbing the cauldrons with renewed vigour that came mostly from the potion he gave her.

"I am so sorry professor, please forgive me. I tried to stay awake, ill stay late and make sure these are finished" she busied herself with work and tried to hide from the man in front of her. He remained silent, studying the girl warily.

She scrubbed the cauldrons, trying to drown her mortification with the manual labour, aggressively attacking the goo burned onto the cauldron. Professor Snape nodded once sharply and went back to his desk, picking up a piece of paper, the sound of his quill scratching filling the room, accompanying the sounds of her scrubber pad on the metal.

"If you wish to talk about it, by all means." He said it so quietly she almost didn't hear him. He never once paused in his grading, scratching out a particular mistake with a certain vigour that accompanied a small scowl.

She paused and blushed again, and didn't respond, instead grabbed the next cauldron. She only had a half dozen left before she could go back to her dorm. Shame burned through her gut as she thought about her nightmare. It was a memory, from when she had accompanied her mother to Diagon Alley. It was about a year before she met the Weasleys, before she had any real contact with non-death eaters, she had been only five years old. She was made the mistake to smile at another girl in the shop her mother was in. The girl had been nice, and when she said hello, Cassiopeia responded immediately. She didn't know at the time what a mudblood is, and she certainly hadn't known that the girl was one of them. It was a lesson she learned very quickly after that incident. Her stomach twisted as she remembered the feeling of the slugs climbing up her throat, squirming and wriggling for freedom. She remembered laying on the ground, heaving and nauseous, and watching them slip away, leaving a trail of slime behind them.

She wondered about the Professor. He didn't seem angry that she fell asleep during detention. He also didn't seem mocking like her house mates had been. He wasn't horrified like Andromeda had been. And there was no pity on his face, like the Weasley's had when they witnessed one of her nightmares. He seemed very calm about it, detached even. She thought about his face when she woke up, she analysed the memory, and glanced up at him under her hair, quickly so he wouldn't notice. He was frowning, and his eyebrows were pinched slightly as he stared down at the paper in front of him, obviously unimpressed with whatever the poor student had written and submitted. His reaction to her nightmares confused her, it didn't make sense, but then her head of house did very little that made sense to her.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence after his quiet statement. She scrubbed and he graded, she pondered her options, her mind blessedly clear and alert from whatever he had given her. It was spicy, like cinnamon and peppermint. She was definitely a fan. Finally she made a decision that she hoped she wouldn't regret.

"I have nightmares." She whispered it so quietly she wondered if he could even hear her talk. His quill paused momentarily, and for a beat she waited for him to say something. Instead his quill continued on its journey. She let out the breath she didn't realise she had been holding. She looked up at him, his eyes were still trained on the paper in front of him, but his head was tilted in her direction. He was listening, if she wanted to talk, but he wouldn't interrupt her.

"Sometimes I cry out." The quill scratching paused once more, "I have woken up my dorm mates a few times, something that is not very much appreciated."

She went back to scrubbing the cauldrons, only two left to finish. She couldn't help but to notice the silver of her bracelet on her scrubbing hand gleamed mockingly against the black metal backdrop of the cauldron. A constant reminder of her mother's presence in her life. Of her control, of her power, she was never going to be free from her, not truly.

"There are ways to silence your outbursts." Professor Snape finally muttered, still grading papers.

She nodded, scrubbing her last cauldron. "I cast the silencing charm every night before bed." She wished her tape player functioned at Hogwarts, what she really needed was to get lost in some music, to alleviate her dark thoughts. Maybe she would try the wizarding wireless, out of sheer desperation.

"I think I am done for tonight professor." She said as she finished off her last cauldron. Professor Snape finally glanced up at the desk, nodding curtly as he examined the now gleaming cauldron closely.

"Indeed. 5 points to Slytherin for mastering a 3rd year spell Miss Tonks. That will be all for tonight." He inclined his head towards the door, signalling her dismissal.

"Until tomorrow sir," she murmured before letting herself out of the classroom. She paused along the way back to the common room to lean against a wall and let out a sigh of relief, not only had the professor not been angry she fell asleep, he didn't seem too cross about her nightmare. Even more surprising was his reward for her desperate solution to silence herself, and the relief she felt in confiding, at least a little bit, in someone who didn't respond in pity or horror.

She continued back to the common room, the effects of whatever potion she had sampled still pulsing through her system. She didn't know what it was, but she was determined to find out, because she definitely wanted more of it.

That night she lay in bed, thinking about her earlier nightmare. Her silencing charm had already been cast, and she was safe from alerting others should any more nightmares descend during the night. It was a memory she had relived during her earlier nap, and only part of it. She closed her eyes and remembered that day, her stomach twisting at the memory of the slugs crawling up her windpipe.

Her mother had left her alone for a few moments that seemed to last an eternity, waiting for her lesson to take hold in her daughters mind. When her heaving finally stopped and she settled onto the ground, curled up and shaking, Bellatrix finally relented. She cleaned up the mess, incinerating the few slugs that survived their ordeal, before gathering her daughter up in her arms. She shushed the crying, shivering girl, and gently wiped tears and bile from her face.

"You need to learn Cassiopeia, you know why I do this." She crooned to the girl, who had her face buried in her mother's neck.

"You punish me to protect me," the girl sniffed, her words muffled by her mother's robes.

"You are a pure-blooded witch, from two of the oldest, most powerful family lines. You are superior to everyone else in every way, you will have power and influence beyond anything most can even dream of. Mudbloods and Blood Traitors want to take that from you Cassie."

"I didn't know mother, please forgive me" her tears had dried up, and her stomach cramps were beginning to ease.

"Today it was just a foolish girl, but what if it had been an Order member? Or Albus Dumbledore?" Bellatrix voice turned dark as she discussed their enemies.

Cassiopeia shivered in her mother's arms, thinking about what fate would befall her should she ever be unlucky enough to meet a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Well daughter?" her hands dug into Cassiopeias shoulder as she pulled her daughter out of her embrace to look her in the eyes.

"Albus Dumbledore wages war on the Dark Lord and all that is pure and right. He would torture me beyond anything I could imagine, he would rip open my mind to pry my secrets, and crush me under his boot so him and his Order could succeed in their mission" she intoned hollowly, fear flashing in her eyes. Her mother always used Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix to scare her. She wondered if they were even real people, or if they were stories conjured by her mother to scare people. She had seen blood traitors before, but had never witnessed the fabled Albus Dumbledore or the Order of the Phoenix.

But if half of the stories about the man and his army were true, then she dearly wished to never ever meet him.

Bellatrix picked up the girl, ignoring the cry of pain as her daughters cursed muscles protested. "You must learn from your mistakes daughter, so you can be stronger. Lestrange's are not weak, and you are not going to be an exception." She growled, carrying her to her bedroom.

A few tears fell from Cassiopeia's eyes as she curled up in her dorm room bed, remembering her mothers gentle touch, and her lessons. She knew now that she was wrong about the great mudblood conspiracy, and she had been wrong about Albus Dumbledore and blood traitors like the Weasleys.

Bellatrix had tucked her into bed that night, murmuring in solidarity with the girls lingering pains, "I know, I know it hurts, just breathe." She had crooned softly, brushing back the girls hair. Cassiopeia clung to the other side of her mother, the other face who visited her dreams and not nightmares, and cried.

She cried because sometimes she missed her mother. She cried because moments like this, in the dark of the night, in her loneliest hours, she acknowledged her deepest, most shameful secret. Cassiopeia cried because despite everything, a small part of her loved her mother.

Xxxx

Thursday finally arrived and Cassiopeia was practically counting down the minutes until she could attend her extra curricular class with Professor Quirrell. After dinner she found herself waiting anxiously outside his classroom, nearly thirty minutes early. She tried to pass the time reading from a muggle book about circuits Ted had gotten her for Christmas, but found she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't wait to share her newfound knowledge with Professor Quirrell, to explain to him the subtle details of how electrical current travelled. She had meticulously mapped out the correct electrical map for her tape deck, she even made a colour coded diagram to show the older professor of the exact flow of electricity. Hopefully with that information he could try and replicate the current with magical energy.

She hesitantly put her ear to the door, wondering if he was working in his office. She hadn't seen him at dinner earlier in the evening, and she was curious if he was hidden away, distracted by research. She found it very odd that Professor Quirrell was teaching muggle studies at Hogwarts, when he could be working for the ministry, or anywhere else doing research. He was brilliant, theoretically talented, even she could see that and she knew very little. He seemed wasted at Hogwarts, teaching a course many found laughably easy.

Of course, she was glad he was wasting his talent, because it was providing her another opportunity to learn, to grow in her own skills, and to help her regain her sense of equilibrium in the form of music. She couldnt wait, she impatiently knocked on his office door, curious to see whether he was hiding away.

She heard a clatter of what sounded suspiciously like a heavy book fall to the floor and the tell tale sound of china clicking forcefully before a startled, "come in!" shouted from behind the door. She poked her head in, pleased to see her assumptions were mostly correct, she had startled him from his reverie, a puddle of spilled tea across the desk acting as evidence. He was mopping it up hastily with his wand, taking care not to get any of the offending liquid on any of the numerous books and papers across his desk.

"O-oh, Miss Tonks. Is it already 7?" he asked, stuttering slightly in surprise as he searched his robes for a pocket watch. Cassiopeia shook her head, a small smile gracing her face as she took in the frazzled state of her professor.

"Er, no. I am actually a little early professor," she ducked her head, attempting to look at least a little bashful over her eagerness. Especially as she saw what looked like the remains of a half eaten dinner still on his desk. "I can come back if you like? I can catch up on some reading or…" she trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. She didn't think she'd actually interrupt his dinner, she just assumed that when she didn't see him in the great hall, that he mustve eaten earlier.

He waved his hand, causing his plate and its half eaten contents to disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving no evidence that it was ever there. "Seeing as your already here, we may as well begin, I have been giving this conundrum a great deal of thought over the break, and I have a few ideas I would like to try. Lets go over your research progress first…" Professor Quirrell always started his lectures self conscious, uncertain of his audience's attention, but he always settled once he got lost in his train of thought.

Cassiopeia appreciated this in the man, and eagerly pulled out her notebook brimming with colour coded notes and charts, beginning her own lecture on electrical currents.

The weeks passed, she had finished her detentions with Professor Snape. He warned her again on their last evening to stay out of trouble and to refrain from attacking her fellow students, especially housemates. He never brought up her nightmares again, something which she was thankful for.

Cassiopeia and Professor Quirrell had made little progress in their research, once Quirrell had understood the physics behind electricity, he had some small successes for power the tape player in the short term, lasting a few seconds at best, but they hadn't managed to make it last more than a short burst of power.

Despite the setbacks, Cassiopeia was determined not be put out about it. Progress was progress, and it was a difficult task, and their small successes seemed to spur Professor Quirrell on further, his frustration leading to more and more complicated spell work.

She could barely follow his spell diagramming, but she tried her best to write up a report on what they had tried so far in the research project, dutifully making copies and making sure the interested parties allowing her to undertake the research received theirs. Her course load also increased slightly, meaning she began spending more and more time in the library, in the presence of either Constance or Daniel for study partners. The petty spell casting from presumed housemates continued, but with her shield charm becoming stronger and stronger from the constant use, they were only causing minor annoyances.

As winter turned into spring, a strain of the flu began making its way throughout the castle. Constance was stricken with it first, and she in turn passed it onto Cassiopeia. And so she found herself with a stuffed head that felt double the size it should be, a pounding headache, and exhaustion that felt entirely unrelated from her normal lack of sleep. In fact Cassiopeia had slept more than she might have ever slept in her life over the course of the illness, and still found herself run down. Constance suffered with her, being the bringer of the virus to begin with, but she had relented and went to the hospital wing for some potions to clear everything up. Cassiopeia was a bit more stubborn, and was determined to see the sickness out naturally, to beat it unassisted. She had no idea quite where this stubbornness came from, but taking the easy option out seemed out of the question. She held out for a few days until Professor McGonagall threatened her with the loss of house points if she did not see herself immediately to the hospital wing. It was an order that was on the heels of a combined sneezing and coughing fit that had lasted no less than fifteen seconds, very loudly, in the middle of the Professor's sentence.

So she reluctantly sat on a bed in the hospital wing, surrounded by other students who were infected with the illness, and waited slightly impatiently for the nurse to reach her. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, took one look at her pitiful form and deep bags under her eyes and ordered her to stay the night, in order to properly rest. Cassiopeia tried to protest, but was met with the stubborn wall of will that was the school nurse. So she reluctantly took her first potion, a decongestant that tasted vile but felt like heaven. She felt her airways clearing and her head shrinking and vowed to never take the ability to breathe out of both nostrils for granted. The second potion was a dreamless sleep potion, which knocked her out soundly within seconds of swallowing, cutting her joy over her rekindled ability to breathe short.

When she awoke she felt heavy, groggy, and so much better than she remembered feeling anytime in her life. She yawned loudly, stretched leisurely against the white starched sheets of the hospital wing, and wondered over the feeling of being well rested. Her yawn drew the attention of the nurse, who bustled over and poured her another potion, "sixteen hours you've been asleep." She stated matter of factly, "its no wonder you were feeling so awful, try going to bed earlier in the future." She handed the girl a vial of a red, spicy smelling potion.

"Go on, drink this and you'll be free to go. Quick now." Cassiopeia's eyebrows raised as she understood the womans words. She didn't think she had ever slept more than six hours, let alone sixteen at any one time. It felt wonderful. She mentally made a note to look into the dreamless sleep potion again in the future.

She sat up slowly, yawning again, before accepting the next potion. So far the nurse hadn't don't wrong by her, but she still sniffed it suspiciously. "Pepper up potion." Madame Pomfrey remarked. Cassiopeia took a hesitant sip, and a familiar cinnamon spice exploded over the taste buds and shot through her body like electricity. It was the potion Professor Snape had given her when she took her impromptu nap during her detention. She eagerly finished the drink, shivering as the effects started tingling across her limbs pleasantly. She definitely needed to have a supply of this potion as well.

Her usual state of exhaustion and over caffeinated soon overtook her brief spell as a normal, well-rested human being. One early morning in April Cassiopeia woke up to an abnormally large pile of letters and parcels at the breakfast table. So taken aback it took her longer than it really should have to remember what day it was. She was 12. She rarely received post at the school, only occasionally writing to her Aunt Narcissa at the insistence of Andromeda. What was abnormal for her was a reasonable amount of post for most of the other students; because of this nobody in the Great Hall took any notice. She briefly examined the letters and parcels; one was from Mrs and Mr Weasley and contained a selection of her favourite biscuits and a warm letter. A wistful smile found its way to her face as she read the letter from the Weasleys, a familiar warmth blooming in her chest as she read their words. She never seemed to find time to speak to any of the Weasley children in the school, Bill being a few years too old to be seen with a lowly first year, and with Charlie always busy with his friends.

The second letter was from Andromeda and Ted, it wished her well, and promised that she would receive her presents at her party during the upcoming Easter holidays. She frowned, her eyes lingering on the promised party. She had classmates in the muggle world who had birthday parties (that she was very notably never invited to), but had never had one herself. Her parents took different approaches to celebrating her birthday growing up, her father would squeeze her shoulder and giver her a brief nod before wandering off to do whatever it was in his free time, leaving her in piece. Her mother would spend part of the day with her, telling her stories about her family history, blood purity, and in later years, tales about the Dark Lord, and warnings about his enemies. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, trying to clear her head of her parents as an even more familiar hollowness filled her chest at the thought of them. Her birthdays had never been overtly unpleasant with her parents, but they had neither been anything special.

The last parcel was from her Aunt Narcissa, sending best wishes on behalf of her and her husband, and requesting again for them to catch up. She suggested they could have a girl's day out, for her birthday. Cassiopeia wrinkled her nose in slight distaste as she thought of what could possibly go into a girl's day out, but weighed the offer in her mind. An idea had been slowly forming in her head since she had taken ill earlier in the term, it was a potential plan for achieving a supply of certain items that she'd rather not have the Tonks know about, or be financially responsible for. It was a plan that needed Narcissa's help, and she wondered if a birthday day out might be the perfect opportunity to pursue it. She would think more on it when she had time, but the Great Hall was slowly filling with students, and one in particular was trying to catch her attention. She hid the parcels away in her bag before making her way over to Constance, who had been waving wildly at her for the better part of a few minutes. She almost came to regret this decision as she learned what her friend wanted to ask her.

There were a few brief days of sunshine that gave the illusion of warmth as the Easter holidays approached, and Constance very stubbornly dragged Cassiopeia and Daniel outside to bask in the very cold sunshine by the lake. Constance was dressed in only a short sleeve shirt, her chattering teeth and goose pimples the only thing betraying her true body temperature, while Daniel and Cassiopeia stayed in the warmth of their winter robes, shaking their heads at their friends stubbornness. So absorbed in the absurdity of her friends wish for sunshine, Cassiopeia had quickly forgotten what day it was until her cousin loudly crashed their impromptu gathering, "Oi! Cass! Why are you out here in the freezing cold!? I've been looking for you everywhere!" She shouted, her hair a bright electric blue, matching her equally appallingly bright wardrobe choices.

Constance and Daniel paused their game of checkers in surprise as Nymphadora sat down heavily in their group, heaving an exaggerated sigh as she sat down and set a large basket next to the three children.

"Didn't think you'd get away without any celebrations did you? Its not everyday its your birthday!"

Cassiopeia blinked. She hadn't given the idea of celebrations much thought as Constance had accosted her, eagerly dragging her to bask in the cold Scottish sunshine. Then she got embroiled in a competitive game of checkers, lost, and then watched the other two continue their board game battle.

Daniel looked at her, hurt crossing his face, "were you really not going to tell us Cass?" he asked, his voice small.

Constance looked equally upset, "but we didn't get you anything? Why didn't you mention something!" she rubbed her arms subconsciously, trying to simulate the warmth that was missing from the air.

"I—" she paused, trying to figure out what to say. She had only ever looked forward to one birthday before, her 11th birthday because it represented the end of her muggle world ordeal. Other than that, it was just a day that happened, occasionally met with some acknowledgement from her parents, when she was young.

"Well, fortunately for you, mom wrote a few days ago and warned that you might try and ignore such a day, and helped me plan this." Nymphadora opened the basket to reveal a spread of cakes, sweets, and flasks of chilled pumpkin juice. "I raided the school kitchens and put this together for you, so we could have our own little party." Dora beamed in pride as she revealed her goodies, and Cassiopeia was deeply touched with her efforts.

"Thanks Dora," she said it quietly, giving the girl a small smile. Constance and Daniel complained a few more times, still a little hurt that she hadn't planned to tell them, but she was able to console them both with promises to celebrate sometime over the holiday with them.

Dora flagged over a few of her braver friends who were tentatively venturing outside to see the sun for the first time in months, and soon her little gathering of three grew into a slightly larger group of students, all snacking on the desserts provided by Dora's seemingly bottomless basket.

Cassie sat quietly, staring fondly at those around her, her few friends mingling with acquaintances, all talking and laughing, bemoaning the lack of warmth from the weather, and chatting about coursework, upcoming holiday plans, and favourite desserts. She sighed, revelling in the feeling of belonging that she was almost becoming accustomed to, it was strange but she decided it was ultimately a good feeling.

 _A/N anyone else think about how disgusting puking slugs would be. Like border line traumatising? Sorry for taking a while between chapters, I promise this is still receiving about 90% of my effort and thoughts (sorry Magpie folks...), but I am honestly finding it a bit difficult to write these early years. Most of my ideas and outlining deals with themes for a slighter older child/ teenager. Things will get super juicy in her about fourth and fifth years onwards. Before then, its all a bit thin on the ground in my mind. Also shoutout to_ _brnicholas for their super insightful reviews and conversation! They rightly pointed out I messed up the timeline a bit, making this not technically cannon, and instead cannonish. Ive tried to fix it, but honestly upon reflection I got all my years mixed up from births, not thinking about the time of year people were born in relation to when school starts. I also made a few mistakes in the first part of this series where I mention Cassiopeia was older than she is. I will eventually do a rewrite to fix this, but here is a rough timeline (where ive made note of some mistakes ive made, there is bound to be more... /line/105479). Again reviews really help me keep writing, and especially ones that are insightful or ask questions really help me. I dont really have anyone to talk to about this story irl, so its all happening just in my head, its always nice to chat to people about it! And those chats help me figure out what makes sense and what doesnt! different perspectives and all that!_

 _Anyways, enjoy!_

 _Tibys_


	10. Chapter 10: End of the First year

It was the day before Easter and Diagon Alley was rammed full of people. Cassiopeia fiddled nervously with her new robes, finding them stifling in the heat of the spring sun and the overcrowded café. She took a nervous sip of her water, relishing the cool sensation it created as it slid down her throat and rested in her belly. She was waiting for Mrs Malfoy, though she was beginning to regret her choice of meeting place. She had not planned for the unseasonably warm weather before the holiday, and it seemed the heat had drawn larger than usual crowds to the shopping area. She had barely managed to snag a table outside the popular café, earning herself a dirty look from the proprietor when she only ordered a glass of water.

She pulled again at her robes, finding them a bit too stifling for the weather, and frowned when she caught a glimpse of her silver bracelet. It was nestled nicely next to her friendship bracelet that was twinned with one of her best friends, a muggle born witch, and the irony of such an existence almost broke her frown. She could only imagine what her mother would say if she found out. She shivered, she could only imagine what she would _do_ if she ever found out.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted by her name being called, Mrs Malfoy stood in front of her table, looking both pleased to see her and appalled by the hustle of the café. She stood to greet her aunt, and wavered when the Malfoy matriarch made a move to embrace her. The woman paused, sensing the hesitation in the girl, and brought her arms back to her side, uncertainty flashing across her face. The look passed as she turned her attention to the busy café, sneering at the business before turning back to the girl with a warm smile.

"Happy late birthday Cassiopeia, I hope you enjoyed my gift. I was so pleased when you responded and suggested we go out. Did you have any place in mind…" she paused, distaste once again crossing her features as she looked at their environment, "or would you rather me choose?"

Cassiopeia flushed, gazing around at her surroundings. It was obvious Mrs Malfoy found the place beneath her, and honestly she wanted somewhere with a bit more privacy to commence her plan. She needed something from the Malfoy woman, and she did not want prying ears hearing her request. Though a dark part of her did enjoy seeing Mrs Malfoy obvious discomfited, and she briefly considered suggesting they stay where they were, just to watch her squirm a bit.

"Er, I had no place in mind. This was the only café I knew in Diagon Alley, so I thought it would be a good meeting point. I think you mentioned something about a place with cakes?" she scratched the back of her neck, pushing her curls more in her face. Mrs Malfoy beamed, "Patisserie Valerie, they have a wonderful chocolate cake that I think you would just find divine."

And so Cassiopeia found herself in a very quiet, very cool, and very expensive roof top café in Diagon Alley. Unlike most the places on the wizarding street, the café lacked the medieval or traditional charm and in its place was a bakery that was modern, and extremely fashionable. It made Cassiopeia twitch slightly, but with a deep breath she took a seat with Mrs Malfoy in a private booth overlooking the hustle down below on the street. It was the perfect place for the rich to look down on the commoners below, and Cassiopeia pulled at the sleeves of her robes awkwardly, reaching for the pot of tea that was placed on the table in front of them. She blushed deeply when her hands knocked that of the server, who was still holding the pot intent on making the tea for them. She muttered a quick apology and went back to looking at the people down below her doing their shopping and enjoying the unbearable heat.

Mrs Malfoy kept up a steady stream of mindless chatter, small talk and things that were both totally inconsequential and beyond the young girls care. She ate her cake, which was admittedly divine as promised, and nodded in what she hoped were the most important parts.

After an hour Narcissa had gleaned some very basic information about the girl, she enjoyed music, was interested in magical theory, charms, and transfiguration. She was not very fussed about any type of sport or game, but had been known to place checkers on occasion. From what she gathered Cassiopeia spent nearly all of her free time reading, and spoke nothing of having any friends or allies in her house.

Mrs Malfoy was observing her with sharp eyes, taking in her posture, her reaction to her conversation. In all truth Narcissa Malfoy was nervous, and an awful habit of hers from childhood was to use small talk as a method of easing the other party into their comfort zone. Cassiopeia however did not seem to respond well to her usual small talk, something that worked on the vast majority of the witches and wizards she met with. Though the more she thought about it the more Narcissa berated herself for thinking that any usual social conventions would work on the girl, they never did for either her mother or the aunt she resided with. It was time to change tact, a gamble certainly, but one she hoped would pay off.

Narcissa put her teacup down and signalled for the server to clear up their empty cake plates and to refill the tea. She examined the girl quietly once more, weighing her next move. Cassiopeia had her head ducked, her face covered mostly by unruly and untamed curls, and fidgeted in her seat.

"But of course, you really have no interest in small talk do you child?" She wasn't unkind about it, but her voice changed, flatter and more matter of fact. It was her real voice, one that was free of the flourishes, fake laughs, and the false softer, high notes that she adopted for social situations. This was a voice of a woman with a brain between her eyes, a woman who should not be underestimated. The change was subtle but it was enough to startle Cassiopeia into looking up at her aunt, question.

"It's not that I don't have an interest in it per se…." she trailed off, glancing away again, her cheeks colouring.

"But you didn't ask for this meeting to get to know each other or to gossip about the wizarding society. You want something." Narcissa was rarely so blunt, normally dealing with the machinations of fellow socialites, she found this liberating.

Cassiopeia fidgeted and Narcissa could practically see the girl's brain spinning, trying to figure out how to approach her aunt with whatever it was she wanted. Narcissa smiled softly, Cassiopeia seemed to be many things, but she still had a long way to go to be a tactful schemer. She knew the moment the girl gave up trying to think a way out of the situation, her shoulders slumped slightly, she clenched a fist nervously, and made direct eye contact with Narcissa, at least for a short extended period.

"I wanted to ask for your help." Her voice was quiet but strong, assured.

Narcissa nodded, keeping her face carefully blank. She had assumed as much.

"As you know, I am living with an aunt who was burned from the family, meaning she has no claim to any of the family assets. This put the family I live with in a certain er, financial state." She began, glancing away quickly, losing her nerve slightly.

"They're poor is what you are saying. And you want what, access to your inheritance so you can give it to certain burned family members." Years of practice hid the disappointment on Narcissa's face. It was always about money with people, and it seemed that her own estranged niece was no different.

"Well, yes and no. I do want access to the Lestrange vault but not to give to the Tonks. Ted has a well enough job but what I do not want is to have money being spent on my things such as clothing, school supplies, and such when I have my own money, somewhere." She swallowed, eyeing the older woman carefully, "and more importantly, there are a few purchases that I'd rather they not know about. Certain er…ingredients and books that have caught my eye that they would maybe not approve of."

Narcissa waved off the first part of her statement, "They took the responsibility of raising you, the least they should do is spend their own money to clothe you and feed you. If they can not do such a thing, then they should let you live with people who can."

She took a sip of her tea, raising an eyebrow and the most interesting part of the girls request, "and just what might these items be?"

Cassiopeia fidgeted again, and muttered under her breath. "One more time dear?" Narcissa asked pointedly. The girl sighed, "I am after a few potions, and a few books for purely academic reasons. Hexes, jinxes, and the like, I saw a few titles that I took an interest in. Titles that er... well my guardians definitely would not approve of." Cassiopeia averted her eyes once more and took another hasty sip of her tea.

Narcissa was quiet for a moment, observing the girl and thinking. She was slightly underwhelmed by the girl's intentions, but then what more could she expect. Narcissa had been absent from her life, and the only contribution she had in it recently was to buy her something. She supposed it was a place to start, but she hoped the girl would come to see her more than the rich aunt she was.

Now it was Cassiopeia's turn to examine the Malfoy woman as she thought, scrutinising her behind her curls. She was frowning and looking away in thought, mulling over her request.

"It's not just about your money." Cassiopeia blurted out, blushing again.

"I, well I mean I did want your help in gaining access to the family vault. But I guess, I was also curious about you. I er, barely remember you, from before. You brought me those chocolates, I remember that, er well you didn't intend them to be used as they were." She felt slightly nauseous recalling eating a few of the sweets and becoming horrifically ill as her father laughed. He had spiked a few pieces in the box to induce anything from uncontrollable dancing, standard stomach sickness, and one even made flames erupt from her ears, which promptly set her hair alight.

Narcissa opened her mouth, about to ask a question about them, looking slightly alarmed, but Cassiopeia plunged onward, not really wanting to go into details of her fathers actions. "I guess I was also curious if you were like your husband." She shrugged, uncertain how to proceed without insulting the woman.

Narcissa herself was uncertain how to take the girl, or how to even respond. It was clear they had a long way to go before they really establish a real relationship, but she supposed helping the girl with her inheritance would be as good of a starting point as any. Even if it was going to be used to attain certain questionable items that her guardians would disapprove of. The vault was after all her birthright. Narcissa sighed, taking a delicate sip of tea before nodding tightly.

"Fine, but you must only visit it with me, and I want you to promise me that you wont buy anything too dangerous. In fact, I want to know what you are buying. Or at least the shops you are going to."

Narcissa raised a hand, halting the girls objections, "I will neither judge you nor stop you from spending money on certain items that others may find questionable, knowledge is power. I do however wish for you to be safe."

Cassiopeia closed her mouth and scowled, furiously thinking of a loophole around this request, and reluctantly agreed. She would be vague about some of the things she bought certainly, but the woman did have a point. Cassiopeia knew first hand how dangerous magical objects could be if one wasn't careful. Merlin knew the Malfoy's had plenty of experience with the more frowned on aspects of magic.

And so the pair found themselves at Gringotts, Mrs Malfoy taking charge in the discussions over the ownership of the Lestrange bank vaults. After what seemed like hours of discussions, paperwork, and identification proceeds, Cassiopeia clutched a small, assuming, iron key. There were restrictions on her vault access, Narcissa demanded it of the goblins; Cassiopeia was the only person allowed access to the vault. The only relative allowed to go in with her was Narcissa herself, no one else and no one could enter on her behalf. She had to be physically present.

It was late in the afternoon when the pair left the bank and Narcissa was quiet as she walked the girl back to the Leaky Cauldron so she could floo home. They walked slowly, basking in the residual heat of the sun that lingered in the now shaded areas of the street. Cassiopeia fiddled with her robes awkwardly and kept looking at the Malfoy woman. "I-er—I'm sorry Mrs Malfoy. You must think I was just using you for my own gain. I well, I'm not good at this." She gestured between them awkwardly and grimaced. "I mean, I don't socialise well, especially with people who know about my erm, well past. And well, not only do you know about it, you saw it, some of it. And your husband was there, for some of it too, I remember that clearly. I guess, I am uh, I'm trying to move beyond all of that, and well, you kind of are a part of all of er everything and well…" she was rambling, trying to articulate what she was feeling, while also conscious they were in a public place. "I guess it's just hard, nobody else knows about me. Really knows. And I guess I want to keep it that way."

Narcissa had stopped them and gazed at the girl standing before her. She was hiding again, shrinking away from any contact that Narcissa had tried to initiate, and she felt such sadness and regret well up inside of her, threatening to choke her. In that moment she cursed her sister, cursed her for causing such uncertainty and sadness in the young girl, for inflicting such wounds. And it was clear her husband had some role in the girls traumatic past, something she would be having a conversation with him about in the very near future. She couldn't help the girl if she didn't know what she had been through, but judging from her demeanour, she had been through hell.

"I want to keep trying Cassiopeia, I truly do wish to be a part of your life. The past was filled with darkness and sorrow, and while we cant change that, we can move on and grow. We are all moving on, myself, Lucius, and your cousin, Draco, all of us. We are in a time of peace, without such threats looming on the horizon. Cassiopeia focus on being you, whoever that may be, and I hope that you can find a place for me in your future as I would be truly honoured to be a part of it."

Cassiopeia nodded and the pair slowly started walking towards the pub once again. They remained silent until Cassiopeia was standing in near the threshold of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, her hand hovering over the floo powder she paid a knut for.

"Mrs Malfoy—"

"Please, Narcissa dear." Narcissa interrupted her.

"Aunt Narcissa-" she swallowed, embarrassed once more, "Andromeda wanted me to ask you about going shopping for er new robes. She thought you would have more success than she has had. Though I don't know why she wants me to go shopping for more clothes, I have four perfectly fine sets of robes. Why would I need any more?" she huffed irritably, remembering their argument and failed shopping trip earlier in the year.

Narcissa was surprised when laughter escaped her as she imagined what pains her estranged sister might have had trying to deal with the recalcitrant girl. Andromeda had never been one for shopping, and it seemed it was a feature Cassiopeia also possessed. "Of course dear, perhaps after Easter before you return to school?" she asked, mirth dancing in her eyes as she remembered youthful shopping trips with her sister.

Cassiopeia nodded quickly, swallowing her knee jerk rejection. She really didn't see the point of shopping for more clothes when she already had more than she'd ever had before in her life. But equally she didn't want to alienate the Malfoy matriarch. She seemed like a nice enough lady, at least so far. And she also seemed like someone who enjoyed shopping

"I'll need to check with er, well you know. But I'm sure after Easter will be fine. I don't think it'll be a problem. Dromeda will probably be relieved, she doesn't seem to like shopping very much." Cassiopeia scratched the back of her head, not missing the way Mrs Malfoy twitched at the sound of her sisters name. It was a sensitive issue, and if there were still remaining Black family members alive they would surely frown on Narcissa even speaking to her, regardless of her circumstances.

"Thank you Aunt Narcissa, for everything. I er, I hope I get better at this." And with a final awkward smile before disappearing into the floo network back home.

xxxx

Her birthday party was planned for after the Easter holiday and was a quiet affair. Cassiopeia opted to have part of it at the local arcade, much to the delight of the Mr Weasley who was immediately taken by the brightly coloured flashing machines. His vocalisations of awe was met with many an odd look and gossip amongst the other patrons, meaning the locals gave the group a very wide berth in the arcade. It was perfect for Cassiopeia, Mr Weasley scaring away all the muggles with his strangeness meant she rarely had to wait in line to play a particular game. She had naively invited Mr Weasley to play with her on a 2 player fighting game, but his excitement overcame him and Ted had to politely intervene before he either had a stroke from excitement or caused enough ruckus for the group to be kicked out.

Nymphadora was stuck on Space Invaders and Cassiopeia took turns with Constance and Daniel in playing the fighting games. The whole Weasley clan was in attendance, and while Charlie stayed glued to the trio of first years, his older brother bill pestered Nymphadora for a turn at Space invaders. Charlie's younger brother Percy was perched in a stall carefully eating pizza and trying to converse with the adults, while the twins used to arcade as a large hide and seek arena. Cassiopeia was a little rusty and had a few close scrapes with loss, but ultimately pulled out ahead of her two best friends and Charlie. It was the most she had spoken to Charlie since the summer before, he was so relaxed without his friends around and he was finally able to speak his mind and talk about something that wasn't quidditch.

Constance's parents were pleased to be in a such a normal setting and found Mr Weasley highly amusing, they were soon helping Ted reign in the wizards awestruck giddiness and Daniels parents, one of whom was a half blood, were having an animated in depth conversation with Andromeda over some television show. Most exciting however was Cassiopeia's new tapes she picked up the day before, during a surprise trip to a local record store, the trio sat taking turns on with the tape deck while the others played a round on the game cabinet.

Cassiopeia was in a great mood not only because she was surrounded by the few friends and family she had, though that was definitely a large part of her good mood. She was ecstatic because the party was the culmination of what had been one of the best weeks of her life. Easter had been a brilliantly quiet affair, with Ted's parents once again opting for an international vacation instead of having a family dinner. She had met up with her Aunt Narcissa one more time and had managed to have a good time despite her general displeasure with shopping trips. But aside from buying a few new robes that weren't terrible, she had managed to use her new found funds to put into motion a plan that would help her significantly with her nightmare problems and day to day exhaustion, meaning her next term at Hogwarts would go smoothly and that she would have no problem with her work load as the end of term exams approached.

And so she boarded the Hogwarts express to go back for her final term of her first year at school in good spirits. She had purchased a few more books on magical theory and muggle electrical currents, and curled up in the corner of her train cart with her headphones firmly in place to begin her reading. Her friends, rolling their eyes at her bookish ways, played a game of exploding snap and conversed amongst themselves about their Easter holidays and a few muggle television shows.

Xxx

It was less than a week before Cassiopeia found herself back in detention. This time it was Professor Quirrell who caught her, assigning her two weeks to serve with him and deducted 10 house points. She had been in a busy corridor between classes when she caught a second year Slytherin casting a jinx in her direction. Cassiopeia deflected it back at the boy, causing him to be hoisted into the air by his ankle. She smirked as she watched the student flap about in a panic, but her mirth was short lived when she felt the Professor's hand on her shoulder.

It had been worth it, and serving detention with Quirrell had so far proved to be one of the easiest and enjoyable detentions she had served yet. Initially he had her writing lines about not jinxing students, but soon they both got so distracted by academic conversations. Quirrell was a rather easy man for Cassiopeia to speak to, and once enticed into a subject that he was particularly interested in, he could speak about it for ages. So her detentions slowly morphed from writing lines to spending the evenings doing extra research and writing papers for Quirrell. Most students would have found the extra schoolwork punishment, but given the topics were directly related to her side research project, she actually relished the time allowed.

She was also helped by her solution to her nightmares and general day-to-day exhaustion. She had realised that the opportunities for caffeine were too limited for it to realistically sustain her, so Cassiopeia had put into motion a new plan over the Easter holiday. She had gone to an apothecary in Knockturn Alley the morning before meeting with Mrs Malfoy for her shopping trip, and had purchased a bi-weekly supply of dreamless sleep potions and pepper up potions, all to be delivered to her at Hogwarts. She had paid a pretty knut for such a privilege, but she was finding a few sips of dreamless sleep before bed, a fraction of the usual dose, helped her sleep through the night peacefully and left her feeling well rested. The pepper up potion she carried on her person and sipped throughout the day, during moments when she felt the familiar onslaught of fatigue. She was careful to limit her doses, carefully keeping track of them so she could hopefully keep her tolerance down, but so far they were working marvellously. She was feeling great and was accomplishing so much more in her waking hours now that she wasn't constantly fighting the fog of fatigue.

In an effort to limit her dependency on the potions, Cassiopeia often took one of two nights a week without them, and instead cast her usual silencing spells. It was during one of these potion-less nights when she woke up in the dead of night with her body wracked in imaginary residual pain from her dream. Her nightmare had been vague, not a specific memory, but instead filled with the Cruciatus curse. More importantly the nightmare and her tingling nerve endings had given her a flash of inspiration for her electrical spell project. She nearly fell out of bed in her haste to grab a quill and some parchments from her bag before scrawling out her questions and hypotheses down before her half asleep mind forgot them.

As she woke up more and the phantom pains faded she reviewed her notes, feeling equal parts trepidation and excitement. She really thought she was onto something, though she wasn't quite certain how to approach the professor about it.

She sat on her idea for two days before finally finding an opportunity to bring them up with Professor Quirrell. It was during her detention; she was reading a book about different curses and their corresponding punishments in the wizarding justice system, as set down by the international confederation. She gulped, even with the research giving her some entrance into the topic, she still hesitated. This conversation could go very poorly very quickly if she wasn't careful and could lead to some very uncomfortable questions about her past.

"Professor, do you remember when you were introducing me to spell diagrams and we spoke briefly about curses, and how they were fuelled by emotion."

Quirrell hummed, his finger marking his place in the book he was reading at his desk as he looked at his student, raising his eyebrows.

"Er, well, I've heard about one curse, just in passing of course, I obviously don't know much about it, but I you know, hear stories…" she trailed off and the professor raised his eyebrows even further, silently urging her to get to her point.

"Well, you know how the body has something called a nervous system? That is controlled by electrical impulses. In the muggle world they can use external electrical input to stimulate these nerves to cause different sensations in these body, corresponding to nerve endings, using it for behavioural therapy or for well, as a weapon to incapacitate someone."

Professor Quirrell couldn't raise his eyebrows any further so he settled with another hum, confirming he knew of the nervous system.

"Well, I just had a thought. Right now, obviously. Well, I have heard of a curse that causes phantom pains, supposedly excruciating for the victims, and yet the victims have no physical damage to them despite feeling as if a thousand knives were stabbing them whilst simultaneously being set on fire. Er, well, so I've heard at least." She coughed, averting her eyes and rubbed her neck nervously, "well, I just thought, maybe this curse is stimulating the electrical system in the body. Causing the pain signals to fire. And if this magic is interacting with an electrical field, perhaps even emulating certain electrical pulses, maybe well, I don't know…" she blushed noting the professor staring at her with his brow slightly furrowed.

He scrutinised the girl, his brain whirring as he processed her idea. After a minute or so of silence Cassiopeia had to break it, "never mind, it was a stupid idea. Forget I ever mentioned it." She murmured, bowing her head towards her book and flipping a few pages.

"Nonsense." Quirrell muttered, still staring at her, his eyes unfocused as he thought, she flushed in embarrassment. Of course it had been a stupid idea. "It's a rather interesting thought. One that merits some more research, but it is indeed a promising lead. The Cruciatus curse, that's the name of the curse you were recalling. It's forbidden, illegal to even cast it," His eyes focussed on her again, narrowing slightly, she hid behind her curls.

"Oh, that's what its called, I didn't know." She tried to sound innocent, trying to carefully construct a surprised face. She wasn't sure she pulled it off judging from the look on his face.

However his eyes slowly unfocused once more as his thoughts raced and he began nodding his head, thinking through the possibilities. "But there might be some more information on its mechanics in the forbidden section. Perhaps." He trailed off, still thinking. "Of course the Cruciatus requires a very strong intent and hatred to cast. But I suppose its nature does interact with electrical currents, albeit ones that are already active. But it also must be simulating those same currents, having the same effect as if the real thing." He scribbled a few things down; she could see it was a rough spell diagram as he tried to unravel how the curse might look in its basest form.

This continued for about ten minutes, him muttering under his breath and Cassiopeia straining to hear. From what she could make out, it seemed as if Quirrell had more than a casual knowledge of the curse, she didn't think he had ever cast it, but seemed to have certainly studied in more than a passing interest. He finally glanced at his pocket watch, glancing at her in surprise.

"O-oh. It seems that is all the time we have for tonight Miss Tonks. I will have to do some more research, but tomorrow evening we can begin discussing whether this curse has some usable components for our little project."

The next evening found Quirrell poring over a large, menacing book on his desk, with everything else cleared away. Cassiopeia couldn't quite explain why she felt the book was menacing, something about it just seemed _off._ It gave her the chills and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She hovered a few meters away from his desk, eyeing the book warily. She didn't really wish to get any closer to it.

"A-ah. Miss Tonks." Quirrell snapped the book shut and carefully stowed it below his desk. Even while it was out of sight she could still feel its aura, it was thick and slimy, making her skin crawl.

"I spent most of last night and this evening looking into your hypothesis, and I think we may be onto something." He gestured to a chalk board was filled with detailed scribbles of various spell diagrams, white smudges indicating areas that he scrubbed away in a fit of frustration or enlightenment.

"The curse does not just interact with the bodies natural electrical impulses, it simulates them, if you look here—" he started explaining the diagram to the wide eyed first year, speaking almost feverishly as he chased the inspiration.

In all truth most of what Quirrell was saying went over her head. But it was a promising move in the right direction and hopefully would lead to a functioning spell.

Their progress picked up after Quirrell had his minor breakthrough, and Cassiopeia was relieved to never see that menacing book he found the spell in again. Soon she was balancing writing progress reports for the headmaster, and Professors Flitwick and Snape, as well as studying for end of the year exams. She sipped at the pepper up potions mindlessly, always when she had a moment alone, and spent more and more of her free time in the library.

So wrapped up in her studies she barely noticed the Slytherin's hexing campaign against her. It had become so commonplace that casting a standard shield charm became second nature. She rarely even lifted her head from whatever she was reading to retaliate.

Not to say that she took the harassment lying down. That would be showing weakness, she orchestrated her own pranks on her dorm mates. From leaving slugs in their shoes, planting spiders in their beds, to sabotaging bathroom products, to quietly spreading rumours that sowed discontent amongst the girls. She was subtle about it, capitalizing on the fact that a few of her fellow dorm mates were childish enough to keep diaries, and were foolish enough to not ward said diaries with any type of protections. She quietly made copies of key pages and left them in carefully chosen places around the school where she knew interested parties would find them.

Quirrell's excitement over their progress wore off as he gradually hit a dead end. They had managed to get the tape player to turn on, and to begin playing music, but the effect only lasted a short time before it fizzled out into inactivity.

Soon the end of term drew near and the prospect of listening to music again over the summer was buoying Cassiopeia's mood over their failure to create a spell to power muggle devices.

It became an obsession of sorts, dominating her every thought, the sooner she could finish her exams, the sooner she could go back to the Tonks, and read what she wanted to and get lost in her own world.

A little over a year ago all she wanted to do was come to Hogwarts, and now she couldn't wait to leave it, at least for a little while.

And so with all of her exams done, and with her final study session with Professor Quirrell, where she effusively thanked the man for helping her throughout the term, she was soon boarding the Hogwarts Express bound for London.

 _A/N So I am not very happy with how the Diagon Alley scene turned out, it was like pulling teeth writing that particular passage. Summer holidays are up next._

 _tibys_


	11. Chapter 11: Bicycles and Social Warfare

Cassiopeia barely left her room for her first week home. She laid in her own bed, her headphones firmly in place, eagerly reading the slip of paper in each cassette tape, eagerly trying to memorize every lyric from her favourite artists. She left to shower and to eat, and for little else.

After breakfast one morning Andromeda put her hand heavily on Cassiopeia's shoulder moments before she was planning on bolting back up to her room to continue her new album, from a band that was very quickly becoming her favourite.

"Not so fast young lady. Today we are going to leave the house, at least for a little while."

"But—"

"No buts, you haven't left the house since you've been back. You need fresh air."

"And I have a surprise for you girls." Ted added, a wide smile spread across his face.

"A surprise dad? What is it?" Nymphadora exclaimed, her hair turning bright pink in anticipation.

"Well, come out front and see for yourself," he rose from the table with a clap of his hands and led the way. Cassiopeia sighed, glanced longingly up towards her bedroom, and reluctantly followed the man out front.

She felt sick when she saw his surprise for them. Standing, gleaming and beautiful were two bicycles, one green and one yellow, with matching bright helmets. Nymphadora was already cooing over her bicycle, excitedly running back into the house to get what she called the perfect accessory. She emerged with a playing card and clip, quickly affixing it to her bike frame. She hopped on top and took it for a quick ride onto the street and back, waving off her parents shouts to be careful of any oncoming traffic. She crowed with glee and giggled at the sound of the playing card slapping against the spokes of her tyre.

Both her parents laughed as they watched their daughter ride in circles up and down the street, all the while keeping a wary eye out for any cars. Though they were in a detached house off on its own, it was still in a muggle town, near a muggle neighbourhood, with the odd bit of traffic.

"I er, I think ill pass." Cassiopeia muttered, slowly taking steps backwards into the house, her stomach roiling.

Andromeda frowned at the girl in frustration, "honestly Cass, you haven't even tried it yet. I would have thought you would have been overjoyed. These bikes mean that you and Dora can ride together to the arcade or the cinema or wherever you girls want for the summer, within reason."

Cassiopeia shook her head, "er, no thanks." She took another few steps backward.

"At least get on the bleeding bike, we spent quite a lot of time putting them together for you to not even get on it," Andromeda was irritated now, putting her hands on her hips.

"Uh, well, I didn't ask for a bike. I don't want one. I'm fine with walking." Nymphadora had cycled back up the drive and was perched proudly on her bike, panting with her recent exertions.

"Come on Cassiopeia, it'll be so much fun! Try yours out!" the girl called, a wide grin splitting her face.

Cassiopeia scowled darkly at the trio, her hand hovering on the doorknob behind her back.

"I said no, I don't want the bike. Just take it back."

"Cassiopeia Meissa Tonks." Andromeda snapped, her face clouding with anger, it seemed Cassiopeia had finally reached the end of the woman's patience. "You are being extremely rude and ungrateful right now. Ted has been planning this for over a month."

"I said I didn't want it!" Cassiopeia snapped, throwing open the door and running inside, her face flushed red with anger. She stomped her way up the stairs, cursing her burning eyes.

"Cassiopeia!" shouted Andromeda from the entryway of the small house, "Cassiopeia if you keep walking away from me, you will be grounded. That means no owls, no trips to the arcade, and no dessert!"

She continued her way to her room.

"Fine, you're grounded!"

"Fine, whatever!" she slammed the door shut behind her.

"For a month!" she heard Andromeda shout from below.

"Brilliant!" she shouted back

Cassiopeia didn't hear if Andromeda had said more in her anger as she placed her headphone firmly in place and hit play a little for aggressively than normal. She curled up in her bed and stared angrily at her blank wall, cursing the Tonks for the first time during her stay.

The next morning she was met with stony silence and a thick tension filled the air over breakfast. Cassiopeia came downstairs with her headphone still in place, bobbing her head to the rhythm. Andromeda glared at the girl and Ted frowned.

"Cassiopeia, take those blasted things off." Andromeda snapped, "no headphones at the breakfast table."

The girl kept bobbing her head; oblivious to anything her aunt was telling her.

"Merlin's beard," the woman muttered before leaning over the table and pushing the headphone off. Cassiopeia's dark eyes snapped to the woman, glaring angrily.

"I was listening to that." She muttered, irritated.

"We don't listen to music at the table." She snapped back.

The silence continued, thick and oppressive. The sound of cutlery against the plates punctuated the silence, drawing more attention to it. Andromeda threw Cassiopeia looks periodically through breakfast, her eyebrows raised. Finally she had enough.

"Well, are you going to apologise for you behaviour yesterday?" Andromeda snapped

Ted and Nymphadora both stopped eating; glancing at each other nervously before turning to watch the battle of wills unfold in front of them.

"For what?"

It was the wrong thing to say, Andromeda's face clouded in anger, "for being rude to both myself and Ted. Your behaviour is simply unacceptable, and you will not be enjoying this summer holiday if you continue to act that way."

She shrugged, staring the older woman down, meeting her challenge. Andromeda was struck in that moment with the similarities between this girl and her sister. Bellatrix had the same rebellious and independent streak.

"Or you'll do what? Curse me?" she challenged, her eyes cold and assessing, she glanced at Ted quickly to gauge his reaction. She was taut, her muscles at the ready to flee quickly or to fight if needed.

The words hit Andromeda light a hammer, her face crumpling, and the illusion of her sister was shattered and was instead replaced with the broken girl that was in front of her. Ted's frown deepened and Nymphadora shifted nervously, uncertain about the events unfolding in front of her.

"Don't be ridiculous, we would never curse you Cassiopeia." Andromeda sounded tired as she pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation, feeling the very beginning of a headache forming.

"But we will punish you. If you don't apologise." She warned.

Cassiopeia shrugged again, relaxing only a little. "I didn't ask for a bike and I don't want one. I thought I made that clear." She was blunt in her assessment.

"Cass, that's not the point" she sighed, "you were very rude yesterday."

It seemed the girl didn't care; she shrugged half a shoulder and lowered her eyes back to her plate of food.

"Fine, you're leaving me no option. Give me your tape deck now young lady."

That got her attention, Cassiopeia shot up in her chair, her face flushing as she clutched her precious music player to her chest, "No, you cant do that."

"Hand it over now."

She held it closer, shaking her head.

"Accio Walkman." The spell was muttered so fast that Cassiopeia had no time to react beyond a violent flinch at the sight of the woman's wand.

"No! That's not fair! That's mine!" now she was angry, screaming at Andromeda, reaching desperately over the table to grab at her music. Andromeda back up and vanished the tape deck before Cassiopeia could grab it, "You'll get it back in a week. Sooner if you apologise and show us you really mean it."

The girl was beyond reason, seeing red, she screamed in frustration, turning on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen, shouting incoherently the whole way.

"One week!" Andromeda shouted after the fleeing girl, "To the hour!"

Cassiopeia scream back in response.

"Longer if you keep that up!"

She shouted once more before slamming the door to her bedroom.

"And stop slamming the bloody doors! Two weeks!" The woman shouted after her niece.

"What are you two looking at?" She snapped at her husband and daughter. The two stared at Andromeda with wide eyes before they both hurriedly turned their attention back to the now very cold food in front of them, studiously avoiding the wrath of the woman.

Andromeda sat down with a huff and stabbed at her eggs angrily, no longer hungry.

Xxx

Cassiopeia barely emerged from her room for the next two days, and when she did she glared hatefully at everyone around her. She limited all her interactions with the other household members, responding to questions and conversation with only syllable answers or deafening silence. Ted frowned at the girl, trying to understand why she had been so upset to begin with, what had been the catalyst for her bad behaviour.

After all Cassiopeia had always been very obedient, to the point of being unusual and unnatural. Children were supposed to be rebellious, opinionated, and difficult. Since Cassiopeia had come to live with them she had been none of those things. She was always courteous and well mannered, a mature and serious child who generally took nothing for granted. Certain actions and reaction Cassiopeia had towards seemingly common occurrences made his heart ache, and simple gestures often times were met with wide eyed gratitude or outright surprise. He would never forget her first morning with them, with her bag already packed, accepting that they were going to return her to the orphanage after her nightmare.

She was always quiet and sceptical at first when given unexpected presents, that her reaction to the bicycle present confounded him. Could it be that she was finally acting more like a stubborn child? Or was it something else?

A sudden realisation hit him like a bolt of lightening.

Of course. They were bloody idiots.

The next day Ted encouraged Andromeda to take Dora out for a ride in the park and packed a picnic basket for them so they could enjoy an unusually warm summer day. Andromeda made an act of protesting, suggesting she should stay home with her niece, but Ted insisted, and packed a small bottle of Pimm's and a box of frozen fruit with a cooling charm in the basket with a wink. Andromeda adored the stuff on a hot day.

After kissing his wife and daughter goodbye, he glanced upstairs where he knew his niece was sulking and let out a determined sigh. It was now or never.

Ted tentatively knocked on the girl's bedroom door and was met with silence.

"Cassiopeia? Can I come in?" he called softly.

Nothing.

"Andromeda and Dora are out for today. It's just me and you? I thought we could spend some time together." He called out.

Silence.

"I have your tape deck."

The door was pulled open suddenly, Cassiopeia stood with her face hidden by her hair, scowling at the man and searching his person for her beloved tape player.

Ted held it up in one hand, just slightly out of her reach. "I promise ill give it back if you answer one question truthfully."

She frowned and he could see her weighing her options, staring almost hungrily at the music. She reluctantly gave a jerky nod.

"Cassiopeia, and I promise nothing you say will change my opinion of you, you are amazing and wonderful and so strong."

She scoffed impatiently, "really Ted?"

He swallowed, trying and failing to find a delicate way to ask his question.

"Just spit it out," she growled, "please" she added as an afterthought, glaring at the man.

"Cass, you don't know how to ride a bike, do you?"

He barely glimpsed her face, the way it flushed with embarrassment before glaring violently before the door was slammed in his face, all thoughts of the tape player suddenly gone out of her mind.

He knocked on the door again, "it's not the end of the world Cass! And it's definitely not too late to learn." He said through the wood.

"What kind of 12 year old doesn't know how to ride a bike?" he felt her slump against the door, her voice dejected. "Its just another thing that makes me different."

"Loads of people don't know how to ride a bike. And I can teach you. It'll be our thing"

She laughed bitterly, "Ted, you are strange. It's too late for me to learn how to ride a bike. I don't mind walking places, or flying or apparating when I'm older."

"Come one, let's go, right now. The garden should be wide enough for you to start learning. I bet we can make good progress on this by the end of the day."

He heard her groan loudly and thump her head against the door, "cant you just give me my music and forget this ever happened?"

"Not a chance kiddo, it'll be grand! Ill open a few cans of soda or whatever fizzy drinks we bought, and we can teach you. I bet by the end of summer nobody will know. This can be our thing!" He sounded excited by the prospect.

Silence.

"Did you just call me kiddo?"

Ted grinned, "Sure did kiddo. Come up, out you get, ill get the drinks, you grab your bike and meet me out back."

Cassiopeia listened to him bound down the stairs in shock, that was it? She hesitated, uncertain of her next steps. She warred between embarrassment and a deep longing. Secretly she had always been slightly envious of the children zooming around on her bicycles around the town. She had once tried to get on a bike, thinking it couldn't be too difficult if some of the dunderheads could do it. After quickly losing control and crashing into a tree, she had thrown the bike across the street and had vowed to never try again, and that it was all overrated.

Reluctantly she opened her door and peered down the stairs.

Perhaps she would give it another try, only to appease Ted obviously.

It took most of the day, but by the time Andromeda and Nymphadora returned from their day out, she was able to ride without falling over with some semblance of control.

She was still grounded, but Ted never told anyone of how they spent the day, and he didn't confiscate the tape player.

And he had grinned through the whole day, pleased to finally have a moment with his niece that he hoped helped her feel more like part of the family. Because to him, she was as good as a second daughter, and he dearly wished for her to feel the same about him.

Xxx

Once her punishment was lifted Cassiopeia spent her summer riding her new bike slowly to the arcade, still very uncertain on two wheels. She listened to music in her room, read books, and wrote to her two best friends, occasionally speaking to Constance on the muggle landline.

She also kept up a correspondence with Narcissa Malfoy, she had been cautious around the woman at first, but soon she found herself opening up more and more with the older woman. Andromeda was always there to talk to if she needed, but she noticed that with some topics Andromeda would tread carefully around her, tip toeing over subjects she worried would upset Cassiopeia. It was a trait that Cassiopeia found intolerable, she didn't want pity and she didn't want people treating her like broken goods. Instead of helping her, it served as a reminder that she was different, that she was broken, and that she was different.

Ted was always open and treated her as part of the family, always upbeat, cheerful, and cheesy, but there were some things, some questions, that he was a touch too innocent for. Cassiopeia was a curious girl, always wanting to learn, always trying to be stronger, and she had little regard for traditional idea of good and bad magic. Ted was simply too _nice_ to have deeper discussions with. And she worried that if she were to open up about some of her interests to Ted, that they'd get cold feet about having her as part of the family, and send her back to the orphanage. Despite repeated promises that they would never do such a thing, Cassiopeia had accepted a long time ago that she was not a good or kind person, and she lived in terror of the day when the Tonks realised that.

And Nymphadora, well, she was a very sheltered child. Cassiopeia envied that with her, and she limited her contact with her cousin, not wanting to inadvertently break that innocence. It was clear that the Tonks had not told their daughter much beyond the basics about her situation, in fact, she wasn't even entirely certain that Dora even knew much about her real parents, other than they were currently in Azkaban.

Narcissa Malfoy was like Cassiopeia; she was neither good nor kind. She was shrewd, cunning, and with her she was very straightforward. Narcissa was someone Cassiopeia could talk to and relate to on a personal level. She could be herself and be free of judgement, she could be curious about the more questionable aspects of magic, and Narcissa encouraged this in the girl. Cassiopeia also spoke to Narcissa about her personal problems at Hogwarts, the bullying, and the measures she was taking to respond to these bullies. She knew the Tonks would give her some malarkey about being the better person, or rising above or some nonsense. Narcissa gave her ammunition, information about her foes that Cassiopeia could use, weaknesses that she could exploit.

Narcissa was teaching her to be cunning the way purebloods should be. She was trying to instil lessons in social warfare. The way polite society fought, with double meanings and false niceties. Cassiopeia was uncertain at first about the effectiveness of such methods, but she was convinced when she was having tea in Diagon Alley with Narcissa and saw it in practice.

Narcissa promised Cassiopeia one of the finest cream teas that could be found in the wizarding world, at a posh café located just off the high street of Diagon Alley. The café was busting, with all the tables booked, and hopeful patrons being turned away by the waiter, who calmly explained to each guest that the establishment was fully booked for the foreseeable future, with no openings expected. One couple were dressed finely at the entrance, the man looked highly uncomfortable, a touch of red warming his cheeks as the woman argued with the greeter that they did indeed make a reservation over six months ago, and that there was no way it was not in the books.

The man alternated between apologising to the greeter and trying to convince the woman to try another establishment, "Come on Bev, there are plenty of nice places to go to." But the woman was not having any of it, insisting that there must be some mistake.

The woman gave a start as Narcissa walked smoothly up, smiling pleasantly at the door greeter, cutting across the woman expertly. "Marshall dear, how are you this afternoon." The waiter, dressed in sharp black robes turned to Narcissa, the irritation on his face instantly being replaced with a charming smile, "Mrs Malfoy, always a pleasure, your table will be available momentarily, will you be having your usual?"

"Yes, for two, my niece will be joining me." H gave a deep nod before running off into the restaurant presumably to prepare for their arrival.

"Narcissa! It's been too long." The woman, Bev, exclaimed, smiling eagerly at the pair.

Narcissa's smile turned sharp as she took in the woman before, "Beverly, a pleasure as always. My what a bold outfit, I admire your bravery. A special occasion?" she asked politely.

The woman's smile faltered briefly, "Our fifteen year anniversary. You remember Albert don't you?"

"Of course, Albert Williams isn't it? My husband mentioned your unfortunate incident at the ministry recently, my condolences. Of course Lucius tried to put in a good word, but you know how these things go." She said airily, Albert's face turned a bright red, his mouth opening and closing, trying to find an appropriate response. He never had the chance, as Beverly tightened her grip on her husbands arm, effectively silencing him

"Of course, you must thank Lucius for his help. They seemed to have lost my reservation, how long ago did you have to make yours? Must have been ages ago." The woman babbled, smiling a little too widely for Cassiopeia's taste.

"I don't have one." She said lightly, smiling.

Beverly's smile dropped properly, her gaze turning to Cassiopeia, who fought every instinct shy away from the attention.

"I wasn't aware you have a niece Narcissa, is she at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin house naturally, about to start her second year, Cassiopeia." Narcissa proudly put her hand on her shoulder, pushing her into the limelight.

"Oh how wonderful! She must know our daughter; she is in the same house, just a year above her. Justine Williams?" She looked eagerly at Cassiopeia, waiting for her to confirm.

Cassiopeia frowned slightly as if in thought, taking inspiration from her aunt, "The name isn't sticking out in my mind." She shrugged lightly, "must not have made much of an impression."

Cassiopeia did know her daughter; Cassiopeia had hoisted her upside down in the hallway in anger after being on the receiving end of an annoying jinx from the girl, all part of the campaign against her. If she recalled correctly, the girl cried.

Beverly's face fell, and the door greeter returned, informing them that their table was ready for them, and apologising for the short wait. Narcissa waved him off, smiling, "it was nice to see you Beverly. Good luck with your reservation. Otherwise I'm sure the Three Broomsticks will provide a great anniversary meal. Albert, good luck." And with that they left the now embarrassed woman and followed the waiter to a table tucked away on a semi-private balcony.

Narcissa laughed delightfully when Cassiopeia confided in Narcissa that she did indeed know the woman's daughter, and promised to send Cassiopeia of book of the 'most delightful spells'.

It had been the start of a very pleasant day with her aunt, despite her aunt's insistence to go shopping for another few sets of robes, and a surprise visit to a salon, Cassiopeia was really enjoying talking with Narcissa. Though she really did not understand why she needed quite so many sets of robes.

Instead of taking the Floo, Narcissa insisted that one of her house elves accompany her to the house, just to drop off her shopping bags. Cassiopeia wasn't necessarily given a choice in the matter; her arrival home caused both Ted and Andromeda to jump nearly completely out of their chairs in surprise. Nymphadora scowled and rolled her eyes before excusing herself from the dinner table to go read a magazine in her room.

Cassiopeia shrugged apologetically, and spent the rest of the evening playing a silly board game with Andromeda and Ted, Nymphadora remained in her room.

 _A/N A quick update, mainly fluff. I just wondered what fundamental things did she miss out on, growing up? I mean do wizards ride bikes? when do they learn? Do they alter them (of course they are altered!). I am going to fly through a few of her next school years, spending at most one or two chapters for each until she gets a little older. Things are slowly changing but will remain mostly fluff until she is in the her fourth year really. Then I think ill slow down again. She is still naive and young, as adolescence hits and as she matures more, some self reflection will and maturing relationships will become significant._

 _As ever, reviews help reassure me that I am not just writing into the void! I would love to hear peoples thoughts, criticisms, and of course if you find any errors or typos._

 _Thanks for taking the time to read this,_

 _Tibys_


	12. Chapter 12: Second Year Comes and Goes

Xxx

Summer passed with a few more outings with her Aunt Narcissa, and a delightful shopping trip with her friends for school supplies. Narcissa didn't approve of her two friends Cassiopeia knew, but Narcissa had wisely never brought the matter up. When she ran into her regal aunt on a day out with her friends, Narcissa smiled warmly at Cassiopeia, was polite and left her to be with her friends, all without acknowledging their existence. She shrugged at the snub, she didn't take it personally; her aunt's obsession with blood purity was part of the package deal.

Her second year in the Slytherin house was wildly different from what she expected, and she was woefully unprepared for the sudden change. It seemed her relationship with the Malfoy's had become common knowledge, splitting the house once more into those who were suddenly very nice to Cassiopeia, hoping to curry favour with the Malfoy's. Even those who were very determined in the previous year to make her life difficult were suddenly very suspiciously helpful and cheerful when greeting her. It set Cassiopeia on edge, but it also opened a world of opportunities for petty revenge.

Her newfound status as someone to know also revealed something very interesting to Cassiopeia. It provided a valuable insight into different positions her fellow classmates families were in the wizarding world. Those who had the social capital to progress through the upper echelons of society by their own birth right continued their crusade against her, perhaps threatened by her newfound relationship with a family such as the Malfoy's. This group consisted solely of other noble wizarding lines; the Selwyn's especially taking an interest in her downfall.

It also showed very clearly which families that were both lesser and aggressively ambitious. The social climbers, those who wished to have the influence and power that came from the mere association of a powerful, old family. These were the children who would go out of their way to greet her, to offer a friendly word, or a favour.

It split the house, and even her dorm mates, Arlene Roberts and Matilda Cook continued their feud, but her third dorm mate, the normally reserved Asha Chaudhari, was suddenly very nice to Cassiopeia, even going so far as to warn the girl about upcoming pranks.

Cassiopeia found herself spending more time with Asha when she was in the common room. The girl was quiet, and a bookworm, an adequate companion when she was studying past curfew. She also suspected the girl was more than just book smart, the girl was abnormally quiet, staring at a page of a book for a little too long, sitting a little too still, all signalling that she was carefully listening to the happenings around her. She had correctly guessed the best method to attract Cassiopeia's attention and her good side, something Cassiopeia respected greatly, it demonstrated that the girl wasn't just listening to those around her, she was paying very close attention herself. She could potentially be a useful ally in the future.

Her relationship with the Slytherins wasn't the only thing to change in her second year. It somehow got out that Cassiopeia had scored the tops mark in her class on the end of term exams nearly across the board. The Ravenclaw house, accustomed to academic dominance, took this fact personally. They also disliked their head of houses obvious favouritism with the Slytherin, often hearing how he wished she were in his own house. This was a challenge for the Ravenclaws and they took every opportunity in her classes to find a reason to put her down or make her look foolish.

Unluckily she shared three classes with the Ravenclaw house, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. She was thankful to have Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors, along with Astronomy. There was limited chance of spell casting against each other in the three classes she had with the Ravenclaws, significantly reducing the likelihood of bodily injury. Of course, with the members in her house, there was always a small risk. Herbology was with the Hufflepuffs, it was a class she spent most of her time protecting Constance from snide remarks that somehow cut the girl to the quick, despite Cassiopeia assuring her that everything they said was not true, nor relevant.

Professor Snape may not have liked her, but he disliked the Ravenclaws even more, especially when he caught several of them attempting to sabotage her potions, on multiple occasions. It seemed to infuriate them more when Snape gleefully deducted dozens of points for small infractions. It certainly didn't make Cassiopeia better in their eyes.

So far she had been fortunate to avoid more detention with her head of house, though she knew he was watching everything she did with suspicion. Professor McGonagall also paid careful attention to her, something the Ravenclaws were not aware of meaning their subtle prodding did not go unnoticed by the formidable Scottish woman.

She sighed, taking a quick nip from her pepper up potion, lounging in her abandoned corridor, trying to find some peace from it all. It was exhausting, between fighting with the whole of the Ravenclaw house, and navigating her way through the den of Snakes and favours within her own house. All she wanted was to keep her head down and get on with her learning.

It took her a week to find time to approach Professor Quirrell about continuing their research project, the man was surprised she was still so interested, but agreed to continue their arrangement. He suggested that she should also talk more to Professor Flitwick to provide an adequate reading list that would help her in understanding the subtle nuances of the work.

They were so close, so far they could power the muggle device for brief moments, but sustainability was something unattainable so far. She had explained her problem with Professor Flitwick, who offered a few suggestions and asked if he could look at the raw spell diagrams himself. He suspected that the spell was already complete, and that it was perhaps a small typo or mistake in the diagramming that was holding it back. Because Cassiopeia and Quirrell had been working on it so intensely he offered a fresh set of eyes to catch mistakes they were blind to.

It was just before the Christmas holiday when Flitwick found the mistake. He informed her before class that he wanted to speak to her at the end of the period; his wide grin and barely contained excitement clued her in to what she expected he wanted to talk about. She could hardly focus during the class, her mind wildly thinking through the possibilities of life with her music back. She hardly heard a word he said through the lecture, and only managed to answer a question asked of her because she had read this chapter early in her first year. She was currently working her way through the end of the third years charms book in her free time, having mastered nearly all of the second year spells already.

The class seemed to drag on; she stared at the clock, watching every second tick away until eternity. Finally, when she thought she was going to die of old age before speaking to the professor, the bell sounded and class was thankfully dismissed. She fidgeted in her chair, throwing her books into her bag, eagerly glancing at the professor, who was busy tidying up his desk.

A few Ravenclaws lingered, packing slowly and glaring at her and the professor. Flitwick glanced pointedly at the few stragglers, smiling as he hurried them out the door. They threw one last glare before reluctantly leaving.

"Miss Tonks. I had a very long discussion with Professor Quirrell over the weekend, who kindly let me examine the work you have been doing on this side research project. First I would like to award you 35 house points for truly outstanding work and initiative, you are a testament to your house, and I will be having words with Professor Snape and the Headmaster as well, explaining your efforts in full.

I have never had a first year show such promise as you have, and to continue this onto your second year! I am truthfully a little envious that the Slytherin house has such a fine student. Looking through the notes I wondered if perhaps you had it right all along, and that there was something else causing interference with the spell. I spoke to the headmaster who kindly looked into the matter for me, a few experiments are needed to prove this hypothesis, but we think we have found the problem." He beamed at her, her face was flushed a dark red in embarrassment as the man heaped praise onto her. Professor Quirrell had done most the work, she was just fortunate enough to observe and answer a few questions about muggle technology.

"The problem isn't your spell work but the wards that protect Hogwarts. I hypothesize that your spell works beautifully, and that you both cracked it at the end of last year, but the very protections woven into the walls, ancient protections created by our founders centuries ago is causing interference that can not be fixed.

Of course only the headmaster knows the specifics of these protections that cover the whole boundary of the school; therefore the only way to prove this is to conduct an experiment, this weekend if you are agreeable. We must try the spell on either side of the school boundary, by the front gates of Hogwarts. Myself and Professor Quirrell have agreed to chaperone and supervise you on such an experiment."

Cassiopeia absorbed his words with a growing sense of dismay. If she understood correctly then it meant it was hopeless. Hogwarts truly was the only place where muggle technology could never work in the wizarding world. She stared at the stone walls, wishing she could see these mythical protections woven into the fabric of school. Wishing with all her soul to crush them enough so she could finally have some respite.

"So you hypothesize that the objective was truly hopeless." She said finally, sitting down heavily.

"Not hopeless!" the small Professor said brightly, giving the girl a small smile. "Through your efforts we now have a spell that can potentially create a sustainable force to power muggle technology in the wizarding world. And you have learned something new, both about muggle technology and about the school itself. Knowledge is our most powerful ally in this world. Knowledge itself is reward enough for our actions, is it not?"

Cassiopeia was once again reminded why she was not sorted into Ravenclaw, listening to the man. Knowledge was a reward sure, but the larger reward was the outcome and application of said knowledge.

"And if our hypothesis is correct your music player will work in Hogsmeade, a place you will be able to visit in your third year. And that is not insignificant. You will be the first witch ever to use a piece of muggle technology in the village I wager." He patted her on the back, sensing her melancholy, and she gave him a small smile.

"That is something Professor. And I learned a lot truly. This weekend you say?"

"That's the spirit!" the man said brightly before going into details about the plan for the weekend. It was a simple test, to take place at the main gates of the school.

"It's remarkable Miss Tonks, and I hope this outcome does not deter you from similar academic pursuits in the future." He bid the girl farewell, promising to meet her after lunch outside the castle entrance with Professor Quirrell.

Cassiopeia spent the rest of the week in a mood that neither her friends nor the promise of further research could pull her out of. She had been so hopeful, and now it seemed foolish to have ever thought that she could do something as remarkable as create a new spell.

A letter to from Narcissa that cordially invited her formally to have dinner at the Malfoy Manor on Boxing Day worsened her mood. It was going to be a small family affair, Narcissa guessing correctly that Cassiopeia had no interest in going to the large Christmas Eve event at the Malfoy Manor, a party that was apparently one of the social highlights of the year for polite society. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about the large formal event. She would have to dress up, be polite, and make small talk. None of her friends would be welcome, and she would have to play the political polite society game.

But having dinner as a family with the Malfoy's came with its own pitfalls. Though she had long grown comfortable with Narcissa, she had not seen her husband yet. She suspected this luxury was about to end, if not at this dinner then another. The thought of confronting a person so firmly attached to her past made her feel slightly nauseous. She figured she might as well get it over with and reluctantly wrote back a soft acceptance, pending a conversation with the Tonks'. She figured she could always use them as an excuse in the last minute if she really did not feel up to it. The Malfoy's already despised the Tonks'; there was little they could do to lower their opinion even further.

The weekend took its time to arrive, and Cassiopeia was unusually stressed about the test. When the day finally arrived she felt as if she were walking to her own execution. She had only made it through the week with a steady supply of pepper up potion, and a nightly dose of dreamless sleep. She was slowly building a tolerance for the potions, and she was forced to alter the doses slightly over the week, another thing adding to her black mood.

Professor Quirrell was quiet and uncomfortable in the company of the exuberant Charms professor. He gave short, uncertain smiles that appeared more akin to grimaces whenever the small professor addressed him, and gave short responses to any questions that were thrown his way. Cassiopeia was surprised at the distance to the front gates, having only made the journey in the Threstral drawn carriages. Professor Flitwick seemed oblivious to the moods of the accompanying him, filling the air with mindless chatter, Quirrell and Cassiopeia glanced at each other, raised eyebrows as they both only half took in everything the professor was saying.

Finally the moment of truth was upon them, they were standing before the gates, at the edge of the wards that protected Hogwarts.

"If you wouldn't mind doing the honours Cassiopeia." Professor Flitwick said kindly, gesturing for her to cast the spell.

"Amnis vitae anima" she intoned, focusing her mind and channelling her intentions. She envisioned what she hoped to accomplish, her mind clearly picturing the currents she wanted to bring to life in the forefront of her mind.

The tape player powered slowly at first, she could hear the faint buzz of music emitting from the headphones. But like all other times before it slowly fizzled out, as if the battery was nearing critically low levels. She sighed with frustration and the Charms professor gave her a sad smile.

"And now on the other side of the wards."

With a complicated series of movements with his wand, the gates slowly opened. Cassiopeia took a deep breath, silently steeling herself for disappointment.

"Amnis vitae anima." She said once more, moving her wand over the tape player, clearly picturing the currents in her mind's eye.

The tape player slowly turned on, music once again emitted. The three watched it, waiting for inevitable slow down, Cassiopeia was holding her breath. And yet the song continued, she could hear the lyrics faintly from her headphones,

 _It's the story of your life, and the end of it is your death, and every word that's in between is just a waste of breath_

She clutched the tape player to her chest, eagerly rewinding the cassette, playing the song from the beginning, putting the headphones up to her ear. She felt a surge of something warm and wild in her chest, and she grinned widely at Professor Flitwick who was beaming brightly, and Professor Quirrell who had a small smile of his own at their success.

She closed her eyes and savoured the brief glimpse of her music, the lyrics and sounds washing over in a moment of pure joy.

 _The badges you pin on yourself fall off or start to rust. And the more they take the piss the less people you can trust._

It was a bittersweet moment. She had her music, but only off the school grounds. It would be another year before she was able to listen during the school term, when she could go to Hogsmeade.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant Miss Tonks! I believe celebrations are in order!" Professor Flitwick enthused, interrupting her moment.

Cassiopeia reluctantly turned off her player and smiled gratefully at the men in front of her. "I cant thank you two enough for all of your help, and support. I just—" she paused, unable to fully form the emotions she was feeling, "Thank you."

"Er, quite." Professor Quirrell was uncomfortable with her thanks, peering off at the castle in the distance, probably longing to be back in the quiet of his office, "pity about the wards. How curious that they interacted with the spell…" his eyes unfocused as he lost himself along another train of thought, mulling some problem over.

"I hope that this mixed success does not deter you from following your curiosity. Both myself and Professor Quirrell are here at your disposal for any questions or additional reading you may require." Professor Flitwick motioned for the group to begin the trek back to the castle, Cassiopeia noticed with dismay that the tape player cut out shortly after crossing the gates threshold.

The trio were mostly silent on the walk back and when they finally reached the castle gates Quirrell excused himself almost immediately, muttering a vague excuse of grading before disappearing to the sanctuary of his office.

Professor Flitwick faced the second year in front of him and enquired if she would like to join him for a cup of tea to discuss any lingering questions with the research project or where to go from there. Cassiopeia wanted nothing more than to decline his offer, especially as he said it loud enough for a few Ravenclaws nearby to hear clearly. She met their glares head on and accepted the professor's offer. It was the least she could do after all of his help.

And so she found herself in his office once more, surrounded by piles of books, delicately balancing a teacup, watching the Professor search for something.

"Tell me Miss Tonks, what subjects have you been reading lately? And don't be shy, I am well aware you have finished this years textbooks already." He smiled at her knowingly, smirking over his glasses. Cassiopeia felt her cheeks redden at his observation.

"Uh, yes. I finished Grade 2 spells sometime last year. I am almost finished with Grade 3 now." She coughed, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"And your extra curricular readings?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I am almost done with the list you recommended sir, about magical theory and spell diagramming. I don't think I quite understand most of it, but it has been fascinating. I am also picking up a few language texts, mainly ancient runes and general epigraphic introduction textbooks. Professor Quirrell helped me with Latin and a little of Ancient Greek, but I am slowly reading more about the ancient magical languages." She blew out a breath of air as she thought of her recent readings, "honestly, it's a lot. And I am struggling to find a clear focus, an application."

Professor Flitwick nodded sagely, smiling at the girl in front of him. "It can be overwhelming when one dives into the subjects as you seem to have done. Perhaps, if you are interested, I can compile a more structured reading list. The essentials. Do you have a subject that you are particularly interested in?"

She took a sip of her tea, thinking through her response. The more she read the more she realised she was deeply interested in curses. How they were made, the components that went into them, their structure, and most importantly, how they can be broken. She fingered her silver bracelet, trying to put words together that the professor wouldn't find too questionable or offensive.

"Spell structures. I am interested in how counter spells are created. Interrogating an already existing structure, understanding it, and unravelling it."

"A highly theoretical and complicated subject." The professor seemed excited at the prospect. "Not many students show any interest let alone aptitude for such subjects. Perhaps you'll become a curse breaker once you graduate. A fine profession for only the most talented witches and wizards."

"Curse breaker sir? That's a real job?" now she was interested, it was the first she had ever heard of such a thing.

"Of course! There are many witches and wizards throughout history with less than honest intentions. Somebody has to find a way around them. They are valued as auxiliaries to the Aurors and at private institutions such as Gringotts. But the time for you to choose a career path is still a few years off. For now let's see if we can nourish your curiosity without it overwhelming you." He pulled out a parchment and began asking her detailed questions about what she was reading and her thoughts about the subjects.

Nearly two hours had passed like this, the pair often getting lost in theoretical conversations as Flitwick tried to help her understand some of her readings. In the end she had a detailed list of books she should read and what order they should be read in. He even time tabled in meetings with him after certain key texts, guessing that she would have questions or would want to discuss certain theories or ideas. He also suggested she ask if Professor Quirrell was available to discuss with her some finer points about spell diagramming or Latin, subjects he was more knowledgeable of.

Cassiopeia left the meeting with her head full and feeling particularly exhausted. That night she fell into a deep sleep without the aid of a potion for the first time in at least a week.

Xxxx

Her Christmas holiday passed in a blur, with only one clear moment standing out in her mind, her Boxing Day dinner with the Malfoy's. Initially she had been certain she was going to cancel, uncertain whether she was ready to face her uncle, but Ted's parents announced that they would staying in the country for the holidays and expected them to have Boxing Day dinner at their house. It was an easy choice; the Malfoys were easily the more desirable option than Ted's parents.

Andromeda was slow to relent to her visiting the Manor, she only cave after a week of mulling it over; she strongly suspected that Ted had a role in her acceptance of the occasion. Ted, for some reason completely beyond her, wanted Cassiopeia to have a relationship with her whole family, including the less savoury ones. Cassiopeia wondered if he secretly wished for her to find the Malfoy's more accommodating and if it ever came to them kicking her out, they could do so with a clear conscience that she had somewhere to go. Nymphadora was particularly enthused that she wouldn't be there for Boxing Day as it meant she could have a larger share of the Christmas deserts.

Dinner with the Malfoy's was very uneventful, much to Cassiopeia's surprise. She had worked herself up into a ball of stress in the run up to the dinner. She replayed every interaction she had ever had with Lucius Malfoy in her head, obsessively trying to remember every detail, every word spoken. She woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering if she had said anything incriminating as a child around him. She feared what he knew about her, what he might remember, if any words had been said. Lucius Malfoy was possibly the only person in the world who could attest to the crimes she had committed as a child. He was there, he saw her, and he could use that information as leverage.

She was tense and anxious when she left for the Manor, she felt nauseous and wondered if she was going to be able to eat anything at all. It was therefore quite a shock when the dinner turned out to be, well, normal. She would even go so far as to say it was boring.

Narcissa was courteous as ever, pleased that she had finally accepted an invitation to come over. Her son, Cassiopeia's cousin, Draco, was delightful and highly amusing. He was six years old and was very much a 'big boy'. He talked through the dinner about the new toys he received the day before, going into great detail about his new broomstick that zoomed a few feet off the ground. In fact most of the dinner conversation revolved around Draco and his stories. It was sometime in the middle of the second course of her meal that Cassiopeia found she was actually enjoying herself. Draco was very interested in Hogwarts and spent a large portion of the dinner asking her question after question about the school. He wanted to know everything, about the houses, about quidditch, the classes, what magic she was learning. He dreamt of the day that he would finally go, and told her in no uncertain terms that he was going to be head boy and the captain of the quidditch team.

Lucius was almost exactly as she remembered, everything was the same except his eyes. Pride and warmth replaced the cold calculating glint in their depths. Of course this lasted only for as long as he looked at his son and his wife, but Cassiopeia had never considered that the man she knew could even feel those emotions. Having a family and a son brought out another side of him, and that realisation brought on a strange hollowness, souring her evening slightly.

She had witnessed Lucius Malfoy torture people; she could easily see him killing people. He matched wits with Bellatrix Lestrange on multiple occasions, and rubbed shoulders with the Dark Lord himself. And yet having a family softened him into something that was almost unrecognisable, Draco and Narcissa were enough. Cassiopeia by contrast was not enough for her parents; her birth did nothing to soften Rudolphus or Bellatrix.

Cassiopeia's nerves briefly returned when Narcissa put Draco to bed, ignoring his cries that he was old enough to stay up with the adults, and that he was no longer a baby, that he had even taken a longer than usual nap earlier in the day so he could stay up. Narcissa laughed softly in amusement as her son threw a minor tantrum, but in the end she was successful in getting the boy to go to bed with the promise of a special bedtime story.

As she excused herself to deal with her son, Cassiopeia found herself alone with the Malfoy patriarch. They had retired to a library of sorts, where the house elves had put out a plate of fresh mince pies, and a few drinks. Lucius grabbed a steaming beverage and motioned for her to do the same. She hesitated, uncertain for a moment of what exactly was in the drink, and reluctantly took a sniff. It smelled delightful, cinnamon and cloves fighting for dominance.

"Mulled cider, though you are welcome to a small nip of my hot brandy if you prefer." Lucius said coolly, offering her a tight smile as he reclined on a chair with a small sigh.

Cassiopeia decline politely, and perched at the edge of her seat, nibbling gently at a mince pie, eyeing him carefully.

The calculating look that she remembered so well was back in the absence of his family.

"I was pleasantly surprised when you accepted our invitation. Narcissa had informed me of course of your—ah—circumstances." He took measure of the girl in front of him. She took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and met his gaze straight on. She refused to be intimidated by this man. He smirked as he watched her change in demeanour and relaxed further into his chair.

"You are of course welcome to come and go as you please at the Manor. If you ever grow weary of your current accommodation Merlin knows we have the space for you here. You can stay for as long as you wish." He paused, taking a sip of his drink, "We can not change the past Cassiopeia, no matter how much we dearly wish to, and there is little sense in getting stuck in the past. Instead, in this family, we focus on the future. Our Future. We are family, and that is the most important thing to myself and my wife." He looked at her meaningfully, his eyebrows raised slightly behind his glass of brandy.

She turned his words over in her mind, her thoughts racing as she tried to understand his double meanings. It was a truce, as far as she understood. The Malfoy's had moved on from the war, they had a family now and seemed set on working towards a better future for their son. Narcissa had said something similar to Cassiopeia in her letter last Christmas. The war was unfortunate, but it would not define their future. Lucius would not talk about it, as long as she wouldn't talk about it.

"Thank you for the sentiment Uncle Lucius. Both you and Aunt Narcissa have been more than kind to me, and I know you are trying to make up for circumstances that were out of your control. I think we should focus less on the past, all of our pasts, and work on our future. As family." She took another sip of her cider, relishing the warmth that spread through her belly.

He smirked and gave a small, nearly imperceptible nod, before gesturing around the room, "Narcissa tells me you are quite the book worm, tell me, what have you been reading?"

It was as if a weight had been lifted off her chest and the tension she hadn't noticed in the room was suddenly dispersed by his question. Soon Narcissa joined the pair and she spent the rest of the evening enjoying pleasant and empty chatter with the Malfoy's. When the evening finished, she promised that she would of course visit again, and she even meant it.

Being on friendly terms with the Malfoy's brought its own series of challenges however. She had to compartmentalize her life, there were some things that she openly discussed with the Malfoy family that she would never dare bring up to her adopted family, and equally she never discussed her minor frustrations with the Tonks', and she could not bring up her two best friends at Hogwarts. But for the first time in Cassiopeia's life she had both an abundance of friends and family, at least by her standard. And she was keen to keep a hold of all of this, even if it meant she had to withhold certain information from the different sides of her life.

Her second year continued and allowed Cassiopeia the chance to practice keeping her life separated into two. She had her allies within her own house, relationships that were mutually beneficial as she spoke about them with the Malfoy family in her letters to them. And she had her two best friends, Daniel and Constance, where she could relax and let her guard down. She studied with her friends, talked about nonsense, and played many board games while at school. The real Cassiopeia was somewhere stuck between the two faces she wore, but classifying and assigning set times for her to feed different parts of her personality and interests seemed to be working well enough. She could never tell the Malfoys or members of her house about her love for video games, muggle music, and the odd television show, and she would rather die than tell her best friends and family about her fascination with curses, and the less than respectable sort of magic.

She had gone so long without family and friends that now that she had some, she was desperate to keep them, and if that meant omitting some things, then it was a small price to pay.

Xxx

The end of her second year came quickly and with it came the excitement of the second years as they all had a group meeting with their heads of houses to be briefed on what electives would be offered the following year, and to make sure they were all informed how to correctly fill out the required paperwork.

Professor Snape had be direct and to the point, listing the electives, his tone perfectly demonstrating how he felt about each of the subjects. He informed them that they each had to choose at least one, though two would better prepare them for the future and their O.W.L. exams in later years. They were not allowed to drop anything from their core curriculum, which Cassiopeia had been disappointed to hear. She had been hoping, dreaming even, of the day that she would no longer have to suffer through Herbology or History of Magic, especially when there were so many of the electives that she would much rather take.

She left the meeting mulling over her choices, chewing on her lip and she weighed the pros and cons of each one. She dearly wanted to study Ancient Runes, she already had an interest in ancient languages and thanks to Professors' Flitwick and Quirrell, she had made some headway in her self-study. But to get class credit plus directed tuition in the subject would be interesting. She was also interested in Arithmancy, understanding that it had a pivotal role to play in spell construction. Those were really the most logical choices for her to make, the two subjects that were most relevant to her personal interests. And yet her eyes hovered over Muggle Studies. Professor Quirrell had dedicated much of his time to her already and they had developed a kind of rapport. She wanted to take his class only because he was a brilliant wizard, and she worried he would be a little offended if she did not.

She needed to discuss it with someone though she wasn't sure whom she should approach. Unfortunately it seemed it was something that really needed to be settled in house, and so she reluctantly found herself outside her Head of School's office. Professor Snape technically had open office hours that worked on an open door policy. His door was closed and it was not something the students utilised. She stood outside his door for almost ten minutes, debating whether she really wanted to have this conversation. She weighed the pros and cons of approaching Professor Flitwick about it, but she knew that there were some things that just needed to be handled by the Head of House. It was protocol, and she knew her professor was already annoyed Professor Flitwick's praise of her. He made that very clear in potions where her performance was very average, slightly better than average at best.

She steeled her nerves and knocked on the door, entering after hearing his irritable shout of acknowledgement from within.

"Miss Tonks, what do you want?" he barely glanced up for his stack of papers. "Not in trouble again I hope?" his voice was soft, warning.

"Er, no sir. Keeping my nose squeaky clean." She said quickly.

He paused to give her a disbelieving look, his eyebrows raised, "Then what pray are you doing here. I don't have all night." He glanced pointedly at the paperwork on his desk.

"Of course sir, I wanted to talk to you about our electives for next year. I am having some difficulty in deciding what I want to pursue and wondered if you can give me more details." She held onto the hand-out she was given at the group lecture earlier in the week, which had a brief description of each course.

Professor Snape sighed, reluctantly putting down and quill and giving the girl his attention. "I don't know why I am surprised that you of all students would have difficulties. I had thought given your work with Professor Quirrell and Flitwick your choices would be obvious. Don't give me that look; I am well aware of _everything_ my students are doing. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are obvious choices for you. What is your problem?"

She swallowed, something about the way he said everything made her doubt how well she had been covering her little moments of payback from her head of house. But he had told her once that Slytherins settle their own disputes in their own way, and the good ones don't get caught.

"It's just, well I had been doing so much work with Professor Quirrell that I wondered if I should take Muggle Studies."

Professor Snape scoffed, sat back in his chair, and examined the girl in front of him.

"Do you have any inkling of what you want to do when you leave Hogwarts Miss Tonks?"

She was taken aback by his question, "I—er—well, uh. No?" she was only thirteen afterall, a second year. She didn't even know what her options were. Severus raised his eyebrows in disbelief, looking down his nose.

"You are still very young, however of all my students, I had figured you would have the clearest idea of what you wanted to do. Or at least what direction you wanted to go into. I certainly know what careers would suit given your particular interests."

"I am not sure I understand." She said hesitantly, fiddling with her silver bracelet nervously.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes and leaned forward, "according to Professor Flitwick's exhaustive and incessant babbling you have an unusual interest in spell structures, interrogating, understanding, and sometimes creating. An interest like that would best suit for certain divisions of the Aurors or curse breaking—"

"I could never be an auror." She said quickly, a cold sweat breaking out across her neck at just the thought.

Professor Snape paused at the interruption, examining the girl closely, but continued without comment, "Yes, well curse breakers require a NEWT in both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. And you spent time in the muggle world, which begs the question as to why you would wish to study them, given you have enough sense to live amongst them for years."

She was taken aback by his frank assessment of her. It seemed her head of house was indeed watching her very closely, as he had promised to in her early detentions in her first year. His point was valid, she knew a lot about muggle ways and muggle life, and she had taught the instructor of said course a few things about muggle technology. It was a little queer that Professor Quirrell taught the subject, given that she was certain he had never lived with the muggles for any extended amount of time. And even if he did, she was positive that his social skills would make him incapable of blending in or noticing the subtleties in their day to day life. She wondered how much she would really learn from the course. And yet, she felt some loyalty to the man, enough to make her sit through a potentially boring and painfully easy course.

"Of course why we are having this discussion to begin with is beyond me Miss Tonks, you need to choose a minimum of two courses. You can take a third if you wish to relinquish one of your free periods. And you can decide for yourself to drop the muggle studies course later in your career, when you realise how utterly pointless it is."

Her eyes widened. He had mentioned during the general meeting that they were to choose two subjects, omitting the word minimum. Suddenly she had a crazy thought, "So sir, theoretically speaking, I could take every elective?" she asked hesitantly.

He scowled at her, "Theoretically. It has happened in special cases. You however, would not be permitted the means for completing this however. Three is realistically your maximum."

She bristled slightly, "and why would I not be allowed?"

He peered at her one more time, his eyes boring into her, before he raised his eyebrows slightly in challenge. "You are who you are. There are many who would be sceptical of letting the child of the Lestranges any advantages in this world. In fact there would be many who would like to see you fail and disappear from the wizarding world entirely, just because of who you are. It is not fair, but it is the reality of life."

Her face flushed bright red in anger and embarrassment. It had been a while since she had heard anyone talk about her parents in such a stark way, especially on how they still influence ever decision in her life, about the shadow they cast over her.

Professor Snape continued, either oblivious or uncaring of the feelings the girl was experiencing, "it is bad enough that you look just like her, but you also have the same interests as her. Though I hope in your case it is not for the same reasons."

She was horrified, what was he talking about; he couldn't possibly mean what she thought he did. "My mother was interested in magical theory as well? Same as me?" she felt slightly sick, wondering not for the first time, about the very real and pronounced similarities between herself and her crazed mother.

Professor Snape's eyes bored into her own, taking a moment before responding. She shivered, direct eye contact was something she avoided, and with Professor Snape eye contact felt even more intense. And yet she couldn't look away, she found herself caught like a deer in the headlights of a car, frozen. She needed to get a grip on herself, and with great effort she tried to reign in her fear and horror over the similarities she may share with her mother and put them in the back of her mind, locking them away in a small, dark box where she kept her nightmares. She focussed on her breathing and on clearing her mind. She took a deep breath and finally found the strength to look away, blushing slightly.

"You're mother was—is—a powerful and resourceful witch. She also took great joy in devising new and, in her mind certainly, novel ways to use magic for her own entertainment and gain." His tone was cold and flat, and Cassiopeia was left once again wondering how the Professor knew her mother. He couldn't possibly have been an associate of hers because he worked for Dumbledore. Dumbledore would never hire someone who was loyal to the Dark Lord, so she wondered yet again whether he was a school mate, or even a victim. It was an answer she suspected she would never know.

His words were true, Cassiopeia remembered her mother trying new spells, often using her as a test subject for new curses. She fingered her silver bracelet, another Lestrange special. They may be similar but their motivations were different, of that Cassiopeia was certain. Professor Snape took her lack of response and understanding of his point, and continued on.

"Now if that is all, some of us have work to do." Snape said impatiently, interrupting her train of thought. She nodded and with a quick thanks, all but ran out of the room.

Xxx

She had met him accidentally. In fact she had literally ran into him, knocking everything out of her and out of his, hands.

"Merlin, I am so sorry," she muttered, mortified, bending immediately to help gather up their things.

She was exhausted and had been completely zoned out as she was walking. There had been an interruption to her potion supply from her man in Knockturn Alley, leading to an unexpected shortage. Without her potions she was finding it hard to function. She was walking around in a mental fog, completely dead to the world. During the day she felt like she was in a haze, she had chills, headaches, and difficulty concentrating, she wanted to do nothing more than to lie down and fall asleep, and yet at night her body was filled with adrenaline, her skin crawling and her chest itching with anxiety and her heart raced. It was a new level of hell, and it left her forgetful, irritable, and apparently clumsy. Her marks were slipping and she knew that her friends were becoming a little worried about her, judging from their roundabout comments. She hoped her supply would resume soon, because exams were approaching quickly, and she was worried how she would perform without the extra help.

"S'okay, no harm done." The boy she bumped into said kindly, bending down to help the girl.

"I don't think we've met before. The names Glynn Gambol." He smiled and held out his hand for her to shake.

Cassiopeia reluctantly paused in her efforts to gather the fallen objects to return the handshake and froze momentarily when she met his eyes. He was beautiful, and his eyes, a bright, clear glacial blue, Cassiopeia blushed; she could stare into his eyes all day.

"Er- uh hi, Glynn. Cassiopeia Tonks." She said stupidly, she could feel her face burning as she realised she had been staring at the boy.

"Very nice to meet you Cassiopeia Tonks." Glynn said, giving her a bright smile.

Cassiopeia's blush deepened at his smile; it was a genuine expression that made her feel a little tingly. Nobody's smile ever had that effect on her before.

"I think I've seen you around Cassiopeia, you're in your second year right?" his voice was warm and friendly as they continued picking up their items. Cassiopeia found that when she wasn't looking directly at him she could concentrate a little more.

"Yes, Slytherin. What year are you in Glynn?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye, taking careful note of his blue robes. She had never noticed him before, and given her reaction, she would remember ever having seen him.

"Third year. I always see you in the library, studying away. You're relentless, putting even us Ravenclaws to shame." His tone was friendly as he picked up the last item off the ground, a book. "I think this is yours?"

She smiled shyly and accepted the book with a soft nod. "I expect your so tired, studying hard for exams. Merlin knows I am. I'm completely lost in thought rehearsing information about charms in my head." He said kindly, offering an explanation for her absentmindedness.

"Yes, and losing sleep over it. For me it's dates for History of Magic." She laughed nervously, it sounded strange and high pitch to her own ears, causing her to blush again.

Glynn wrinkled his face in sympathy, nodding, "I remember that exam. Well, if you ever need any help, or er, want a study partner, let me know. I somehow did quite well on that exam." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and smiled shyly.

Cassiopeia found herself nodding eagerly before she even realised, and stopped when she noticed she had been nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "Yeah, that would be cool." She tried to sound casual, but her heart was racing at the thought. She wasn't sure she would actually get much studying done with this boy sitting across from her, but equally now that she had imagined the scenario, she was desperate for it to happen.

Glynn smiled, "well then, until we meet again in the library." And with that he continued on his way

They crossed paths a few times in the library, each giving each other a smile, but only shared a table once, when he approached her when she was alone one evening. She was working on a piece of reading from Professor Flitwick, as part of her independent study. Glynn had noticed the book she was reading about ancient language and grew curious about her study topic. It had sparked an hour-long discussion that had gotten them both kicked out of the library by a very irritated Madam Pince. Glynn was in Ancient Runes but had never looked into other languages. He found it fascinating and asked if he could borrow the book after her. She blushed brightly and agreed almost immediately, promising to be finished with it before term ended.

They parted ways as curfew approached, but it left Cassiopeia feeling warm for days.

Exams came and went, and luckily her potion supply was returned to normal before the exam period started. It wasn't long before she was back on the Hogwarts Express, curled up in a corner as always, listening to her music, completely ignoring her friends arguing about something or another and lost in her own world.

 _a/n thanks guys for reading. Ran through second year quickly, because well, not much exciting happens and I didnt want to draw it out, getting trapped in fluff or minutiae of day to day life. Extra credit for any fans of 80s british punk if you know the song and/or tape she is listening to. Its one of my favourite bands, who are still around and rocking today (I was lucky to see them in June.) thoughts, comments, and critiques welcome as ever :) Enjoy!_


	13. Chapter 13: Getting to Know You

Cassiopeia was pleasantly surprised when Glynn sent her an owl over the summer, thanking her again for lending him the book. He also wondered if she were available to meet up in Diagon Alley sometime, maybe have some ice cream and continue their discussions over the subject.

Cassiopeia quickly checked with her guardians for permission before sending back a letter agreeing to meet up the following week. Andromeda would be accompanying her, but promised to sit at another table far away from the pair, and to be discreet about the supervision. Cassiopeia wasn't super pleased she would have a babysitter, but nevertheless could not stop a grin from overtaking her face randomly at the thought of spending more time with Glynn.

Andromeda and Ted glanced knowingly at each other, small smiles lighting up their faces as they watched the girl practically float around the house in excitement. She even wrote to Narcissa, asking for advice on what to wear and how to style her hair. Narcissa responded almost immediately, offering suggestions from the items of clothing she had bought the young girl, and offering general advice of how to act on her first date. Cassiopeia blushed as she read the letter from her aunt, writing back firmly that it was not a date, and that he was just a friend who she was meeting for an academic conversation over ice cream. Yet she carefully filed away the information Narcissa offered, just in case.

The day finally arrived and after much begging, Andromeda promised to stay entirely out of sight, and agreed to keep watch from an entirely different café. She was anxious to not come off as a little kid who needed babysitting with Glynn, and was relieved that Andromeda had acquiesced, though she was a little annoyed at how hard Andromeda had laughed at the request.

Her meeting with Glynn started disastrously, with Cassiopeia immediately spilling a full glass of water all over the boy, in her nervousness. And then she practically fell on top of him in her eagerness to clean up the mess she made with napkins. Glynn however laughed it off and continued as if nothing happened, causally drawing all the water off with his wand. After a rocky start the rest of the day went well, with only a few more hiccups. Mainly she kept staring at him for a little too long, laughed a little too hard, and stuttered a little too much. Luckily once they started talking about epigraphy and ancient languages she grounded herself in the academic conversations.

Though these conversations brought on another wave of giddiness in other respects, mainly that she had never really had anyone close to her own age to talk to about this. Daniel and Constance were her normal study buddies, but they never showed an interest in any of the same subjects she was into, they were content to study only the content they needed to study. Glynn was the epitome of a Ravenclaw, curious about everything to the point of it almost being a distraction from his normal school work. From talking to him Cassiopeia learned that he was almost always going down rabbit holes and tangents in his research, often finding it difficult to stay on one track. He was frustrated that there was so much to learn, so many interesting things, that he felt restricted by the curriculum at times.

She confided in him that she had read ahead in a few of her subjects, and was miles further in the curriculum than she was supposed to be. They talked for hours, each neglecting their ice cream, and the stiffness in their legs as they sat at the table for a while. Finally he suggested they go for a walk, noticing the sideways looks the ice cream parlour staff was giving them as they had taken up a valuable table during such a busy time of the year for such a long time. She glanced quickly at Andromeda sitting in another café, drinking a cup of something warm and idly flipping through a magazine, giving her a very meaningful shake of her head. She didn't want Andromeda tagging along, worried about what Glynn would think. Luckily Andromeda rolled her eyes and shrugged, holding up six fingers and tapping on her watch indicating that she was should be back there by dinnertime, at 18:00.

Her and Glynn went, perhaps predictably, to a bookshop. They spent ages going through the shelves, pointing out volumes they had read to each other, and engaging in light discussion about ones that they both read, and recommending others. Cassiopeia made mental note of a few interesting books and Glynn promised to lend them to her to read over the summer, eager to have someone to discuss their contents with. Following their visit to the book store, the pair wandered aimlessly around Diagon Alley, with no particular destination in mind, walking slowly, just relishing the conversation.

Glynn glanced at her, putting his hand on her shoulder, pausing their meandering path and giving her his full attention. He smiled at her and Cassiopeia grinned back, beaming under his gaze, and blushing furiously. "Cassiopeia, I –" he was interrupted however by someone else calling her name. Cassiopeia's smile faltered as she turned to glare at whoever dared interrupt whatever Glynn was about to say, "Aunt Narcissa?" her glare dropped in confusion as she saw her aunt waving at them with a large smile on her face. Glynn's cheeks were tinged in pink as he turned his attention to the woman, giving her a charming smile.

"Cassiopeia darling, fancy running into you today. And my, who is this handsome young gentlemen with you?" She said airily, her eyes twinkling in amusement as she looked at the pair.

"Glynn, this is my Aunt Narcissa." She introduced quietly, widening her eyes meaningfully at her aunt. Narcissa however completely ignored whatever message her niece was trying to send, extending her hand with a wide smile.

"Narcissa Malfoy, pleasure to meet you Glynn…"she started, giving him a wide smile.

"Glynn Gambol mam. I am very pleased to meet you Mrs Malfoy," Glynn answered automatically, smiling back and glancing between Cassiopeia and her aunt.

"Yes, Glynn Gambol, Aunt Cissy. We were just on our way—" Narcissa ploughed forward, once again ignoring her niece.

"My, Gambol. Any relation to Porteus Gambol? And please, enough with the mam nonsense." she asked curiously, a small smile curling her lips as she glanced between the two.

"My father ma—er Mrs Malfoy."

"Ah yes, my husband works with him of course, speaks very highly of him. Pass on regards to him from myself and my husband if you will. I should leave you two to it, Cassiopeia you must come over soon for dinner some time, and perhaps your friend can join as well."

"Yeah, uh, sure. We'll think about it." Cassiopeia ground out, trying to remain polite, before unconsciously intertwining her arm with Glynn's intending to pull him away from her nosy aunt. At least Andromeda had stayed in her café. Cassiopeia blushed bright scarlet when Glynn placed his hand over the top of hers resting on his arm, squeezing it reassuringly before adjusting her grip so it was resting comfortably above his elbow. He left his hand on top of hers.

"Certainly Mrs Malfoy, I would be honoured to." Glynn was beaming now, giving both Narcissa and Cassiopeia a bright smile.

Narcissa pursed her lips slightly, in an attempt to keep her smile from growing into a full smirk, her eyes sparkling as she glanced at their intertwined arms. "Of course, I'll let Cassiopeia know and she can plan it with you later. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few more errands to run. You two have fun now." As quickly as she had arrived she was gone, with only her flowery perfume lingering in the air providing the only evidence that she had been there at all.

"Sorry about that. What were you going to say?" Cassiopeia muttered, gazing up at him with a shy smile. He grinned and shook his head slightly, "Nothing really, just how much I was enjoying today." And with that they continued wandering, their arms intertwined, his hand on top hers, both grinning until it was time to say goodbye.

They met up once more in Diagon Alley over the holiday, but unfortunately he spent most of the summer on the continent with his family. Despite the distance the two stayed in touch, writing or receiving letters almost daily. Everyone in the household knew just whom she was writing to based on the bright smile that curled her lips with every letter. Nymphadora rolled her eyes whenever she saw it, Andromeda found it highly amusing, while Ted threatened to invite the poor boy over so he could sufficiently intimidate him. Something he had tried and failed to do with nearly all of Nymphadora's boyfriends so far. But he threatened that one day, he would intimidate someone, and maybe Glynn would be his first successful intimidation.

Narcissa wrote her an effusive letter the evening after she crashed their day out, saying how pleased she was with Glynn, and offering advice and almost apologizing for interrupting them. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes but nonetheless indulged in boy talk with Narcissa, something she had no experience with, but she was beginning to find she rather enjoyed it.

With Glynn taking up most of her mental energy, she found herself responding to Daniel and Constance's letters less and less, and every response was filled with recaps of conversations and discussions with the older Ravenclaw boy.

When it finally came to the time to return to Hogwarts Cassiopeia was the first one ready, eager to rendezvous with Glynn at King's Cross. He said he had a surprise for her, and she was impatient to find out what it was. She waited impatiently for Nymphadora, who predictably overslept and had neglected to finish her packing, waiting at the door; her luggage already packed in the car Ted had hired for the occasion.

She barely said goodbye to the Tonks', rushing off to boy when she caught a glimpse of him. His face lit up as he turned away from his parents, completely ignoring whatever they were saying to greet the girl with a bright smile and a very surprisingly firm hug.

He pulled away; his face tinged pink, but with the wide smile still in place. Cassiopeia loved his smile, it was slightly crooked and his eyes wrinkled just so, calling attention to his blue eyes that she found so mesmerising.

But it was the shiny badge pinned proudly to his chest that drew her attention almost immediately.

"Prefect? That's amazing Glynn, congrats!" Cassiopeia enthused, grinning up at him.

"I was so excited when I got the badge in the post, and mom and dad are so pleased. Speaking of which, these are my parents, and this is Cassiopeia Tonks." Glynn introduced her to his parents, who were standing nearby, watching the two with matching small smiles.

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy's niece if I am correct? He mentioned how my son had made an impression on his wife." His father was tall, a handsome man with a square face and greying hair. He had the same bright blue eyes as his son, however they were hidden behind a pair of thick brown glasses.

"It's so nice to put a face finally to the girl he has spent all summer writing to." His mother was shorter, with curly sandy hair and green eyes, she kept close to her husband, and wore a long sleeve shirt green cotton shirt. Cassiopeia thought it was strange for the woman to be so covered given how unusually warm the day was, but shrugged off the thought almost as soon as it occurred.

"Right, I will see you at Christmas, I think it's best if we get on the train, don't you think Cassiopeia?" Glynn gently grabbed her elbow and lead her to the scarlet train.

"I have a prefect meeting first, but I thought afterwards we could sit together?" He asked hopefully, grabbing her trunk and loading it onto the train for her.

"Er, yeah. I'm sure we can make space for you in our compartment. I normally sit with Daniel Jones and Constance Green."

Glynn's smile faltered, "Right, though I was hoping to maybe we could get our own compartment? Alone? There is so much I want to tell you about my summer, and so much to catch up on, that I worry about there being time enough if we have to stop and explain everything to two other people." He smiled apologetically, "though of course we could always try and find time later, I know they are your friends. I just, you know, really want to spend time with you now, and they get to see you during classes, when we have to find time when we can." She was mesmerized by his eyes, reading the apology and sheepishness in them as he tried to convince her.

"How about I compromise. I can sit with my friends while you're at your meeting, and you and I can sit together and catch up when you're finish?" she felt a strange tingling feeling in her chest as he smiled at her brightly, pleased with her compromise.

"Brilliant, well then, until we meet again my lady." He bowed dramatically with a crooked smile before sauntering off to deal with prefect business. Cassiopeia just stood, watching him with a dopey smile on her face, eagerly imagining just how their train ride would go.

Constance and Daniel were not as understanding and she thought they would be. "Really Cassie? We haven't seen you all summer, and every letter you wrote was all 'Glynn this' or 'Glynn that'. We want to catch up with you!" Constance moaned, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Oh sod off Constance, I wasn't that bad." Cassiopeia grouched, her neck feeling a little warm in the face of her friend's critiques.

"And besides, I get to see you guys all the time! We have classes together. I will hardly ever get to see Glynn when we get back to school." She argued half-heartedly. She was conflicted, in her years of friendship with the two; they had never really had an argument before. She wanted to keep them happy but equally she really wanted to spend time with Glynn. It had been months since they were last together, and true they had written nearly daily, it wasn't quite the same.

"Besides, its not I do much talking with you guys when we sit together. You two always argue about something or another while I just sit and listen to music or read."

"But we would still miss your company, we always sit together. In the library, in class, on the train, it's our thing." Constance retorted.

"Our thing? We have a thing? What even is that?" she barely refrained from rolling her eyes at Constance's ridiculousness.

"Yes! We have a thing! It's what we do!" Cassiopeia did roll her eyes as her friend waved her hands in the air in exaggeration.

"We've always sat together," it was Daniel who spoke this time. He had kept quiet for most of the argument, wide eyes carefully watching his two friends as they argued. His voice was low and he sounded a little confused as to why they were fighting. Something about the way he spoke took the fight out of Cassiopeia and her shoulders slumped, "look, ill still be here for half of the journey. How about we don't fight over it and just enjoy catching up."

Constance nodded slowly, staring uncertainly between her two best friends. The trio settled in, falling into their normal roles in the group, each painfully aware that something had changed, though they were not certain what it was exactly.

Xxx

As term started her routine resumed mostly unchanged. She spent time with allies in her house, plotted acts of petty warfare against the rest of the house, spent time with her friends, and studied.

She wasn't sure whether she still suffered from nightmares, finding that the only way she could get sleep was to dose herself with dreamless sleep potion. She tried to go a few nights without it but ended up spending nearly the whole night physically wired with skin crawling energy and mentally tired with a brain fog. The only way she had managed to make it through the day that followed the few sleepless nights she had was to double her dose of pepper up.

She had a niggling worry in the back of her mind that her current schedule was unsustainable, but shrugged it off as a problem to deal with in the future. Maybe she'd wean herself off over one of the breaks, or over the summer, when she didn't have the responsibilities of classes and coursework. For now it was a routine that worked, and was necessary to deal with her classes. When she was off the potions she found it difficult to concentrate, and she despised the brain fog that came with it.

Despite having three instead of two electives like many of her classmates, Cassiopeia found herself almost bored. Ancient Runes was interesting however a year of extra curricular reading put her far ahead of her classmates who were just being introduced to the idea of the language effect on magic. The same could be said about Muggle Studies, as Professor Snape had predicted she found the subject laughably easy and finished all her coursework for the term in a few hours one evening. Arithmancy was proving to be a challenge, as was Potions, and she was finally starting to find Defence Against the Dark Arts a very intriguing class now that they had moved beyond the very basics.

The only major change to her life and routine was the introduction of Glynn, who was steadily filling more and more of her time as of late. Not that she minded, the exact opposite in fact, she found herself making excuses with her few friends to spend time with the older Ravenclaw boy. He was just so interesting, and smart, and those blue eyes captivated her like nothing else ever had.

She sought him out whenever the opportunity arrived, regardless of whether he was with friends or alone. The first time he left his friends to spend time with her she felt the curious sensation curl in her stomach and she beamed. She had been a little worried he would be like Charlie Weasley had been around her and his friends, where he would seem embarrassed, explain their relationship vaguely, and find a reason to be with his friends over her. Glynn was the opposite; he wrapped his arm around her proudly, introduced her to his friends as one of the most brilliant girls in the school, and had excused himself to spend his time with her. He chose her over his friends. She couldn't believe it, and she certainly wasn't going to question it. She even started attending Quidditch matches so she could watch the boy play for his team. She had been initially surprised to find out he was a keeper on the house team, he had never mentioned it directly before because he knew she was not a fan of the sport. But when he casually asked if she would be going along to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff match she had suddenly realised a few things about him. Notably how he would disappear a few nights a week, and that most of his friends were very obviously quidditch players. She felt rather idiotic for not noticing it sooner, but they honestly always had other interests to talk about.

She noticed Glynn only approached her however when she was alone, never when she was in the company of her friends. When she mentioned this observation one night while they shared a library table he blushed slightly, and gave a small embarrassed smile, ducking his head a little. "I guess I don't like to share." He said softly, looking at her carefully.

She didn't understand. He was sharing her table; they were even sharing books and notes. When she pointed this out to him, his eyes crinkled in amusement as he looked at her meaningfully "No, Cassiopeia. I meant, I didn't want to share your attentions with anyone else."

It took her a moment to understand what he meant, and the red rising on her neck signified the moment when his words clicked.

Oh. _Oh._

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know _what_ she could say. The only person who had ever been possessive of her was her mother, who treated her at times as an object to be owned and controlled. Glynn however was different; he was selfish of her time because he wanted to be with her, to be around her. She wasn't sure that had ever happened to her before, and she couldn't understand what she had done to inspire such feelings. A flash of insecurity jolted her system, what if he misunderstood something she said, ages ago, and he had a different idea of who she was? Maybe he had this strange mental image that she was someone interesting and exciting and not the boring and strange person she really was? What if he suddenly realised? Her stomach turned unpleasantly as she mentally recreated all of their early meetings, trying to find what caught his interest, so she could replicate it. Wrap herself in whatever image he saw of her.

"Cassiopeia? Earth to Cassiopeia?" Glynn had a small frown on his face as he tried to catch her attention. "You were miles away," he gave her an uncertain smile, looking suddenly unsure of herself. "Did I say something wrong? Was it too much?"

She gave him a small smile, hoping to reassure both of them. "No, Glynn. I guess I just don't understand why. I mean, most people find me annoying." She blushed, instantly regretting her words. She had just promised herself that she would pretend to be whatever it was that he liked in her, and yet there she was, undermining herself once again.

Glynn gave her a charming smile and move his chair closer to hers. "I don't think you're annoying. Exactly the opposite in fact. I think you're brilliant, both literally and figuratively. Most girls, they are so superficial, they all have agendas. But you, you're just you and you're not afraid of that. You are smart, passionate, and confident." She blinked; she was none of the things that he had just described. Well, she was a few of the things, but nothing about his description made her understand why he liked her.

He reached for her hand, and tried to catch her eye. "I like you Cassiopeia, like, really like you." He gave her an uncertain smile, ducking his head to look at her. She blushed bright red and was struck speechless. She didn't know what to say or how to react. She froze. His smile faltered as a line appeared between his eyes, "I hope that is alright, I mean its OK if you don't like me in the same way, we can always be friends too." His face was turning red as he started to pull away from her.

She panicked as she felt his hands start to leave hers, grabbing them quickly, "No—" his face fell as he tried to pull away now with more effort, she glanced at the librarian, who was giving the pair a dark look in warning, she had spoken a little too loud.

"I mean yes, I mean, ugh" she continued in a hushed whisper. "I mean, I like you too Glynn. A lot." She swallowed, her mouth feeling suddenly dry for some reason, "I like you more than a friend." She buried her face, which felt like it was on fire.

She waited for his response, afraid to look up at him. When she finally mustered the courage to glance at him she was taken aback by the wide grin that split his face and the strange glittering in his eyes as he looked at her. "Would you like to er, perhaps get a butterbeer with me, at Hogsmeade this weekend? Like, a date?" She grinned back and eagerly accepted his invitation. They didn't get much studying done that evening after their conversation, each distracting the other with smiles and blushes, both lost in anticipation for their date in a few days. Cassiopeia was already mentally structuring an urgent letter to her Aunt Narcissa asking for help and advice. She had never been on a date; never thought she would ever go on a date, and had therefore never paid attention to what was normal for the process. She had a lot of questions and knew her aunt would gleefully fill her in. She just hoped that she wouldn't crash their date as she had their first meeting in Diagon Alley.

Xxx

Daniel and Constance were not pleased that she was bailing on them to go on a date with Glynn for their first ever Hogsmeade weekend. The trio had been dreaming and discussing all the things they would do together in the magical village, piecing together a rough itinerary based on other students stories of the town. She had felt a little guilty cancelling their plans, but in her defence, they had never solidified anything, and she saw them all the time. There would be plenty of other opportunities to explore Hogsmeade with her friends, but a first date with Glynn, who had also promised to show her around the village was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Though she had very little understanding of social situations, so she did tentatively bring it up to both her Aunt Narcissa and Glynn himself, wondering if she was doing something terrible. Aunt Narcissa agreed with her, she could see her friends whenever she wanted, but first dates were something very special, a day she would remember forever supposedly. She pulled a face when she read that, Aunt Narcissa was obviously exaggerating, but the sentiment made it through. Glynn had also re-iterated that they got to see her in classes and during the day, and there were plenty of Hogsmeade visits to explore everything with her friends, but he had also suggested they push it back to the second visit if she really wanted to be with her friends. His face fell as he put out his offer, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice but Cassiopeia saw right through him. Every since she agreed to the date he had been in an exceptionally good mood, always smiling and beaming. Even his friends commented on it to her in passing, and she understood. She felt the same, a strange warm tingly feeling that always smile on her face. She didn't think she had ever smiled as often in her life than she had since meeting Glynn. For that reason alone she decided to go through with the original plan and spend her first visit with the Ravenclaw boy.

And what a wonderful day it had been, Cassiopeia woke up early to get ready for her first date, carefully choosing her favourite set of robes, and she even tried to tame her wild mane of hair that she normally let run wild. Aunt Narcissa had sent a special potion that was supposed to calm the frizziness, and it had worked surprisingly well. Glynn had been the perfect gentlemen, charming as ever, immediately complimenting her hair and outfit. She returned the sentiment as the boy had clearly made an effort to look his best, looking sharp in a pair of black and blue robes and his medium length dark brown hair combed and style perfectly.

He had planned the whole day perfectly, with a brief tour of the village, a stop at the local bookshop, where he surprised her with a volume he had ordered in just for her. After that they had a light lunch at local pub, The Three Broomsticks. Unfortunately her two friends chose the same time for their lunch, Constance spent the whole visit drinking her butterbeer while loudly proclaiming how happy she was to be there with her best and only friend Daniel, each statement was punctuated by a loud thunk of her putting her drink down with more force than was needed. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes at the childish antic and sat with her back to the pair, focussing instead on just how blue Glynn's eyes were. After lunch they just wandered, talking about everything and nothing. She marvelled at how easy it was to talk to the boy, at how conversation could just flow; she didn't think she had ever had so much to say to anyone ever in her life. And yet, as easy and comfortable as their conversations were, so too were their silences. By the end of their date they were just walking in companionable silence, each taking in the atmosphere and each other, holding hands and just being very present.

It didn't even occur to Cassiopeia that the trip was the very first time while at school where she could actually use her tape player. For once, she preferred to spend her time with another person in the real world rather than lost in the world she conjured around her music. That night she was on such a high from her first date that she found she was bursting with energy and the need to talk to someone, anyone, about her date with Glynn. Not trusting her housemates and with her two friends angry with her over the trip, she settled in to write a long letter to her aunt, sparing no detail or emotion. She was so wired that she had to increase her dose of her nightly sleeping potion to feel any fatigue.

xxx

A/N _Im finally getting to juicier bits of Cassiopeia's life, but ill still be going pretty quickly through the next few years._

 _Reviews are always welcome, comments, questions, observations. Give the story a like or whatever. Hope youre all enjoying!_

 _tibys_


	14. Chapter 14:Glynn Gambol Part I

A/N A whole Glynn centered chapter, as we explore their deepening relationship...

Glynn and Cassiopeia were nearly inseparable, and when they did find themselves apart by circumstances, Cassiopeia spent most of the time thinking about him. Lost in such a daydream she was taken completely by surprise by a rogue spell was thrown her way.

It was neither a particularly serious nor powerful hex, a simple stinging jinx that caused more surprise than any harm. Unfortunately for the spell caster, taking Cassiopeia by surprise was a very dangerous thing indeed. Her wand was out in an instant with a considerably more potent jinx leaving her lips before she could even comprehend what had happened.

It was a reflex, to attack immediately, viciously, before asking questions. This attitude had helped her much in her earlier life, but it was also a reflex she had been working on trying to suppress, understanding that her response to surprising situations with violence was not prudent in most situations. But old habits die hard, and her surprise at the situation brought out the violence she tried so hard to control.

Within moments the spell caster, a fifth year Slytherin by the looks of it was blown into a nearby wall, his body stuck fast to the stone, completely immobilising him. His face was turned to the side and his eyes were wide open in shock and pain. She froze, her brain finally catching up with her reflexive reaction to being attacked, and examined her work. It was a combination of two simple spells that worked with surprising efficiency, a basic propelling hex with a sticking jinx. Her heart sank when she saw a thin tendril of blood leak down the stone behind the prone boy, her curse had been strong, fuelled no doubt by her shock, and she had thrown him with a little too much force, enough to cause a head wound.

Bollocks.

She was definitely going to get a load of detention for this for sure. Though she was thankful there were no witnesses to her lapse into violence. Her heart dropped even further as she began to imagine what Professor Snape would say to her when he found out she had bodily injured an upperclassmen. She would be lucky to avoid a meeting with the headmaster, a thought that chilled her. With a grim resignation to her fate, she raised her wand once more to undo the spell, trying to ignore the flinch on the stuck boys face as she moved. She had better get him to the hospital wing to get that injury looked at. She knew Madam Pomfrey could patch up nearly anything, and she wasn't worried about the boy's long-term health, despite the head wound. She was more worried about the impact on her short-term future.

"Cassiopeia?"

Her wand only made it a few millimetres before she was interrupted by an all too familiar voice. Her blood froze; it was in fact the voice that she had just been daydreaming about.

Merlin's hairy bollocks.

"Glynn, this isn't what it looks like." She turned to her- well she wasn't sure exactly what they were, if they even were anything after this. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for the scene in front of him, but she was having some difficulty. It was pretty incriminating.

"I—" he had a strange look in his eyes, a glint of something, a certain intensity as he looked at her. He licked his lips, trying to phrase whatever it was that he obviously wanted to say.

"I saw him attack you, and merlin's beard Cass, did you defend yourself." He sounded impressed, a little astonishment colouring his words. His heavy gaze never left her eyes. Something about it made it her heartbeat rapidly, and she was suddenly having difficulty breathing. There was almost a heat emanating from him.

"I came as fast as I could, to take away points, and maybe intervene before he could get off another spell. But I can see my help wasn't needed." He finally tore his eyes away from her to examine the boy still pinned to the wall. With a quick wave of his wand the boy fell to the ground in a heap, clutching his head. The Slytherin boy paled when he saw blood on his fingers.

"Oliver, am I going to have to take away points or issue detentions and let everyone know you were beaten thoroughly by a third year, or are you going to patch yourself up and blame it on a quidditch injury?" Everything about Glynn changed as he assumed his prefect role, he stood taller, looking down on the boy, and his voice was strong and sure. Cassiopeia swallowed, power looked good on him.

"Bloody hell, you are crazy." The boy muttered, wincing as he gently cradled his head again. He glanced nervously at Glynn, "I uh, I cant afford anymore detentions, Professor Snape will suspend me from the team." He said sheepishly.

"Then apologize and be on your way. We can keep this between us." Glynn said, crossing his arms and glaring at the boy. Cassiopeia shifted nervously, marvelling the boy filled with such power, in awe of him. He sounded so self assured, and so confident.

With a hasty apology the older boy disappeared, and just as quickly as the attack had come, Cassiopeia found herself alone with Glynn, her mind still reeling from the fortuitous turn of events. She didn't have to deal with Snape nor detentions.

She glanced back at Glynn, whose heavy attention had returned to her and she swallowed nervously. At least she didn't have to worry about detentions so long as Glynn didn't feel like giving them to her, something that was not a forgone conclusion. She still wasn't certain what they were, and if they were even going to continue being friendly now that he saw what she could do

The corridor was empty and quiet. It was one that she found was less trafficked at the school, and she had been on her way to one of her quiet indoor reading spots when she had been ambushed. Glynn still wore his authority as a cloak, changing his whole persona from the dorky boy to someone powerful. His gaze was intense, and she found herself enraptured by it, both totally absorbed and powerless to look away. Her limbs felt weak, her heart fluttered, and her stomach flipped. Glynn remained silent, taking a few deliberate steps closer to her, she backed up, uncertain about his intentions, and found herself breathless at the sudden change in his attitude.

Her back hit the wall, and he stepped closer to her, his front almost touching hers. She gasped, feeling both warm and lacking in the appropriate oxygen needed to function, his eyes were dark and he stared down at her, eyeing her face intently.

Normally Cassiopeia shrunk away from close physical contact with people, but with Glynn it was somehow different. It still made her skin itch, feeling someone's presence so close to hers, but with him it also felt exhilarating. She felt powerless, breathless, and thrilled. He raised a hand, hovering just over her face, as if he wanted to touch her, before he decided against this course of action, instead resting his hand beside her head.

She was overwhelmed by his presence; his arms locked her in place, with one resting on the wall by her torso and the other resting by her face. He was quiet and seemingly enraptured by something. He was also breathing heavily, his chest betraying his heaving, still gazing at her. Finally, as if he couldn't take it anymore he gasped and surged forward towards her.

Cassiopeia's body was both frozen and very warm as Glynn closed the scant distance between them, his lips on hers, his hand finding her side and the other curling around her chin as he pulled her towards him, into the kiss, whilst also pushing her into the wall. He was everywhere, surrounding her, his presence overwhelming her. Her head swam, unable to process what had happened, her stomach flipped, and it wasn't long before she finally responded to the kiss.

Cassiopeia had never kissed anyone before, so she wasn't certain what exactly she should have expected. She had thought it would have been wet, uncomfortable, embarrassing, and perhaps a little overrated.

She never thought kissing could be so—profound. Her head swam, her hands going to his shoulders, as she closed her eyes and kissed the boy back, trying to mimic what he was doing. His lips moved against hers, controlling and confident. It caused a warm flush throughout her body, and when she gasped he used the opportunity to deepen kiss, pulling her bottom lip against his, nipping and teasing.

And just as soon as it had begun he was suddenly gone. He pulled himself away from her, his face bright red and breathing heavily, smoothing back his hair which had gotten slightly mussed during their activity. Cassiopeia panted against the wall, her eyes wide and mouth open, her brain trying to catch up to what had just happened.

"I am so sorry, please forgive me Cassiopeia," Glynn looked wretched, all the unfamiliar confidence and heat gone, replaced by his usual relaxed and mildly dorky persona.

"I shouldn't of—merlin, are you alright?" he gazed at her with concern; he looked like he wanted to physically comfort her but was also afraid of entering her personal space.

"I don't know what came over me. I just, bloody hell, you're just so perfect, and brilliant. And when I saw you defend yourself against that idiot, it was—just wicked. I've never seen anyone react so quickly so nonchalantly…you are just a natural. I—er I just was overwhelmed and so taken. I just—bloody hell, Ive wanted to do that for weeks, and…merlins beard, I had it all planned out, and I go and lose control" He cursed, now pulling at the hair he had just tried to fix.

Cassiopeia blinked as she numbly listened to his apologies. She was still having difficulty breathing and her eyes definitely felt like they were opened a little to wide to convey any type of realistic normal emotion. She was shocked, warm, and was repeating something he said over and over again in her head.

He had wanted to kiss her for weeks. Glynn Gambol, possibly the most perfect boy she had ever met, wanted to kiss her. Glynn Gambol was not intimidated by her spell work, was not afraid of her or wary of her after witnessing her curse another student. Instead he was so impressed that he lost control.

She, Cassiopeia Tonks, made Glynn Gambol lose control.

Ignoring his continued objections and apologies, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his, not giving herself the chance to think about this course of action anymore than necessary. He froze for a second, uncertain and afraid of spooking her, before he carefully rested his hands on her waist, respectfully and in full control. Where their first kiss had been frenzied and overwhelming, this kiss was warm, slow, and moderated, with both parties in full control of their faculties. Familiar warmth bloomed in her chest as they broke apart slowly, with Glynn resting his forehead against hers, his breath ghosting across her face, his hands loosely holding her close to him.

He had a small smile on his face, his whole body was sagged with relief that he had not scared her away completely, and though his eyes still carried some of his earlier heat, it was tempered, controlled.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he blurted out, before turning beet red once more. "Er, I mean, I had a whole thing planned to ask you, involving flowers, and er—well I had a thing planned, but, merlin I mean, I understand if you don't, of course, its up to you, and I can get you flowers, if that's what you would like…" she placed a finger across his lips, revelling in the her ability to do just that, smiling at his nervousness. Glynn was also so well put together; it was nice to see him uncertain and back footed.

She nodded her assent and he grinned widely. The couple spent the rest of the day attempting to study, but found their eyes straying to each other's, each with a wide and goofy grin on their faces. They also found themselves sitting much closer than necessary. It wasn't long before they abandoned the pretence of studying and passed the time exploring each other's lips. Their kisses were chaste and shy, each one different than their last, each taking the time to become accustomed to each other, and Cassiopeia desperately trying to not make a complete fool of herself with her inexperience.

She grinned through the whole week at everything and nothing, revelling in the newfound knowledge of just how many different types of kisses there were, and was eager to explore more on this particular topic. Luckily she had a very willing and eager partner.

Xxx

Cassiopeia had confided in Glynn early on into their relationship that she didn't know how to be in a relationship. She had very few role models of what was 'normal.' Glynn gave her a warm and reassuring smile, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and promised that he would teach her the ways of relationships.

Term passed by with Glynn and Cassiopeia spending every moment together that they possibly could. Every Hogsmeade weekend, most evenings, and she even began to accompany him to all of his quidditch matches. Glynn had told her that spending all their time together was something that was very normal in relationships and Cassiopeia found herself agreeing wholeheartedly. She loved spending time with Glynn, he was not only her boyfriend, but her closest and dearest friend.

Constance ignored her in all of her classes, leaving Cassiopeia to sit with Asha, her ally in her Slytherin dorm. Daniel reluctantly moved on to other study partners as well, though he at least would throw her halfhearted smiles whenever they made eye contact. She was upset at first when her so called friends distanced themselves, but after a confrontation with Constance in class led to docked house points, and a threatened detention, Cassiopeia's hurt turned to a anger and irritation. She didn't need them, Glynn was a plenty good study partner, and Asha was highly competent and efficient. Asha was not however talkative nor goofy like her other friends had been.

Christmas came and went, the highlight of her trip being the formal introduction of Glynn to both the Tonks and the Malfoys with varying levels of success.

Andromeda was polite and Ted tried his best to intimidate the poor boy, failing miserably and causing all the women in the household to cringe. Nymphadora was surly through dinner, asking pointed questions about how Daniel and Constance were doing, which Cassiopeia tried to delicately handle without tipping off her the elder Tonks of her friendship troubles. It wasn't her fault that they were being so difficult after all, giving her the cold shoulder in class was petty and pointless, and Glynn was a better study buddy anyways. Glynn had told her they were just jealous of what she had, and the longer she was with him, the more she was inclined to agree.

Things had gone more smoothly with the Malfoys, who were charming hosts, and Draco provided delightful child entertainment for the table. Lucius succeeded where Ted had failed, suitably intimidating the poor boy while also cross-examining him. By the end of dinner Narcissa was smirking and Lucius had an amused glint in his eye, both signs of their glowing approval of the boy.

When they weren't together they were writing each other letters, talking about silly things that happened during the day to academic debates about various subjects ranging from ancient runes to charms. After her incident with the Slytherin fifth year that led to her first kiss, Glynn had confided in her that he was very interested in hexes and jinxes, in a very academic way of course. But it provided a common ground for them to discuss, as it was a subject that she also found fascinating.

Glynn helped Cassiopeia realise that she wasn't alone in her interests in the darker side of magic. Glynn was clearly not the sort of wizard who would actively want to hurt people; he barely had a violent bone in his body. But his academic interests closely aligned with hers and she found herself confiding in him more and more as time past, sharing with him things that she had never told anyone before in her life. Things that she had previously worried made her more like her parents, but if Glynn was also interested in the same subjects then how bad could they be? How bad could she be?

Though she had begun confiding in him, she still held some secrets very close to her heart. But the longer she was with him, the more she wondered if one day, maybe she could confide in him her darkest secrets. But for now she enjoyed having someone she could bounce ideas off of for research topics, and who would enjoy her research rabbit holes.

Five months into the relationship Glynn finally questioned her potion intake after noticing once again her attempting to take a subtle sip from a flask she carried. He put down the book he was reading and stared at her pointedly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Cassiopeia said quickly, quickly stashing away the flask.

"You seem to be drinking nothing quite often." He said rather pointedly, irritation flashing across his face.

"It's none of your concern really. Just feeling a little under the weather is all." She faked a cough and stared at her own notes.

He grunted, leaning over to snap her book shut and forcing her to look up at him. "Cassiopeia, you are my girlfriend, therefore everything you do is my concern." He tone was flat and hard, his eyes bored into hers, and his brow was furrowed in consternation. "I worry about you is all, and I want to help. You are always taking sips of whatever that is, and I wont stand for it."

Cassiopeia swallowed nervously, Glynn, normally so quiet and reserved, cloaked himself in his indignation and had put on his prefect persona. He sat taller, closer, and his tone brooked no argument.

"It's just a little pepper up potion." She said nervously, flinching away from him slightly. He made her nervous when he was like this.

"And just where did you get so much pepper up. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't give you so much so often. It can be addictive." His voice was low, serious.

She bristled at the label. She knew very well it was addictive, but she could stop at any time she wanted, it was just convenient and more efficient than coffee. She did not have a problem.

After tersely explaining this to Glynn she was annoyed to see he didn't quite believe her.

"And just why or rather, how did you even start?" he asked.

So she explained to him a slightly edited version of events that led to her current potion schedule. She left out the key information about her nightmares, but kept most the story accurate and brief. She was struggling at first getting to sleep, up all night getting lost in her reading, so she started with the dreamless sleep. Once that started however she was having difficulty staying awake, hence the pepper up.

Glynn frowned and asked where she even found anyone to sell her such an amount of potions. This caused Cassiopeia to flush in embarrassment, and she reluctantly informed him of her Knockturn Alley connection.

Glynn was silent, his eyes unfocused as he mentally replayed everything she told him, looking for any sign of falsehood. His jaw was clenched and he remained very serious, practically towering over her. Cassiopeia's stomach flipped nervously, her skin crawling and she felt slightly nauseous as she waited for his verdict.

She wondered what he would do with the information. Would he go to Professor Snape about it? Or even the headmaster? She knew she could stop when she wanted to, but she didn't want to just yet. It was too important now, during term that she stayed on top of all of her classes. She couldn't afford the slip that would assuredly come.

Even worse than all of that however, was the prospect that he would break up with her, would stop talking to her. She began to realise then how much she liked Glynn, just how far she had fallen for him in the few months since their relationship had been made official. She chose him over all of her other friends, she enjoyed his conversations, his wit, his brain. She felt warm when she was with him, at peace, and like she could be a little more her self than she could with anyone else. She would do anything to keep him.

"Cut your ties with the merchant in Knockturn Alley." He said flatly, looking away from her and back to his book.

Her heart dropped. He wanted her to quit; she swallowed thickly and mentally began planning how she would adjust her schedules without the potions.

"I'll make the potions for you instead. That way I can at least be certain you are getting just that potion, and that the best ingredients are used. I don't want you ever taking potions from dodgy wizards in Knockturn Alley. And this way I will also know just how much you really take, and can intervene if a problem really develops."

She paused. She had never really given any thought to the quality of the potions that she may be purchasing from Knockturn Alley. But still, his meddling irked her. She could take care of herself.

"And just where are you going to make these potions? I thought about making them myself but I couldn't find anywhere with the sufficient privacy for such activities."

Glynn rolled his eyes at her, settling back into his chair with his book. "You let me worry about Cassie. Cut ties with the merchant. This time next week you'll be getting your potions from me." He paused, surveying her, taking in her irritation.

"Cassiopeia, ultimately you can do what you want. But I am worried about you and want to help you the best way I can. Please let me do this for you." He reached for her hand, his voice strained.

Cassiopeia's irritation faded away and was replaced with blooming warmth in her chest. Glynn was only worried, he cared for her, and she initially mistrusted his words because having someone worry for her was still a foreign concept. Sure the Tonks, the Weasleys, and the Malfoys all cared for her in some ways, she always suspected that was because they felt obligated to either through familial ties, guilt, or pity. Glynn genuinely cared for her without any strings attached or obligations, he liked her for her, or at least what he knew of her so far. She nodded in assent and he smiled, gave her a quick kiss, and went back to his reading.

Xxx

Winter turned into spring, the snow thawed and Glynn and Cassiopeia found themselves sitting outside on a sunny spring day. Despite the sun's appearance, there was still a chill in the air, one of the last bites of winter. But it was dry and the chill was refreshing, and the fresh air was revitalising. Being outside also had the advantage of greater privacy, something Glynn and Cassiopeia were taking full advantage of as their study sessions devolved into long snogging sessions, leaving their books unattended.

In between said sessions, Cassiopeia and Glynn read in a comfortable silence, his arm curled around her, and she comfortably tucking into his side. She had taken a small risk, bringing out a book that was not from the Hogwarts library, but from her Uncle Lucius. It was a text that dealt with cursed objects, and she was enraptured.

So far Glynn had not noticed the text that she was reading, too absorbed in his own research project, and she hoped it would remain so. She normally would not bring such a text outside of the privacy of her bed curtains or her abandoned corridor, but she had yet to find the time to read the book, and the promise of somehow finding out more about her mothers cursed bracelet was too tantalising to keep ignoring.

As she read, she smiled as she felt her boyfriend's lips gently grazing her neck, her earlobe. Glynn had evidently grown bored of his reading and was amusing himself by distracting her. She was about to close the book and indulge the boy when he suddenly stopped his ministrations, his eye catching a spell diagram on her book page.

"What're you reading about?" he sounded curious, reaching to pluck the book out of her hands before she could respond. His eyes pored over the pages, flipping through the book a bit, trying to puzzle out the complicated diagrams.

"Glynn, come on, give it back. Its nothing." She tried to protest, but he was quick, hopping to his feet and holding the book well out of her reach.

His laughing smile faded as he began to understand a little of what she was researching. It was some of the darkest magic she had ever read about, curses that did terrible things, curses that were bound to specific people, curses that robbed people of their magic, curses that ultimately killed people if they were lucky, or created a painful existence that was abnormally prolonged if they were not. The fact that Lucius had been so forthcoming in gifting such a book reminded Cassiopeia just what sort of man he really was. The fact that she found it so enrapturing also served to remind herself just who she really was, deep down. It was a facet of her personality that unfortunately Glynn was discovering.

Cassiopeia watched his face intently, trying to discern his reaction. His face was closed off, lost in thought, and she could hear his mind was whirring. Finally, after what seemed like eternity he closed the book and looked her straight in the eye and remained silent.

"It's not what you think Glynn. It's all a purely theoretical interest. I would never dream of using anything in those books on someone." She rushed to fill the silence, to dissuade him from doing something rash, like tell someone else about her readings.

"I, er…well I always had an interest in curses. Some uh, circumstances in my early life ignited this interest. I want to understand how they are made, so I can maybe you know, break them one day. You know spell structures have always interested me."

"Your early life?" he asked quietly, gently placing the book down on the ground.

She swallowed, cursing herself for even bringing it up. "I would prefer, if we, uh, I don't really want to talk about it. The war…" she spoke lowly, her voice losing power at the end, petering out to nothing. It was both a true and sufficiently vague response, "of course." Glynn nodded quickly, accepting her excuse.

He remained silent for a while longer, still lost in thought, Cassiopeia felt nauseous, desperate to get a real reaction out of him, something definitive. "I mean, it's just another one of my research tangents that took a bit of a turn. Surely you've done that too Glynn, followed a line down somewhere questionable?"

He remained silent.

"Look, can we forget this ever happened? Ill get rid of the book and never read into this subject again. I promise, ill even swear on it." She hated the desperation in her voice. But the thought of losing Glynn was sickening, and the idea of losing him because he saw a darker part of her, and rejected her was abhorrent.

She was about to begin openly pleading with him when he finally broke the silence; though his voice was so low that it was a minor miracle she had even heard him.

"The unforgivables." He said quietly, his voice barely qualifying as a whisper.

"What?" she asked, dumbfounded.

He sat back down next to her and looked at her uncertainly, his own fear of judgement present in his eyes and body language. "The imperius curse, to answer your earlier question about questionable research rabbit holes. Have you heard of it?"

It was her turn to be silent and to gaze at him, gobsmacked.

"Of course, er… I mean, I have yes." She responded awkwardly.

Cassiopeia was intimately familiar with many of the unforgivables, though of the three the imperius was the one curse she had the least experience with. She had never cast it herself, though there were moments in her childhood that in retrospect she wondered…. A dark room and a crackling fire came to mind, and a cold high pitched voiced calling her name.

"Cassiopeia."

She snapped back to focus on Glynn, pulling herself abruptly out of her fleeting memory.

"Sorry," she stared up at the boys nervous face.

"I uh, well lets just forget this ever happened. Forget I ever said anything yeah?" he handed her back the book, a flush rising up his neck in embarrassment.

"No, Glynn. I—you don't have to hide from me." He had made himself vulnerable, opening up to her so, and she wanted him to know that it was alright. Merlin, it was more than alright, she was almost relieved she wasn't alone in her darkest interests.

He gazed at her, a myriad of emotions warring on his face. "What is it about curses that you find so interesting?" he sat close to her now, whispering, his eyes darting around looking for eavesdroppers. It would not do for their conversation to be overheard.

Cassiopeia fiddled with her silver bracelet nervously, trying to articulate her feelings without giving too much information away. "I er, well Glynn, you have to understand, I uh, well the war was very er tough for me. I don't want to go into details, or really talk about it, ever. But there were things that I saw, terrible things, and I want to understand how it was done. If I can understand the essence of a curse, maybe I can break it, so no one has to ever experience those things again."

She didn't realise she had started crying until Glynn had reached over to wipe a tear off of her face. Sorrow lines his features, and he looked pained, he loathed to see her in such a state. "Thank you for confiding in me Cassie. The war was harder on some more than others, I was fortunate to be a pureblood and so our family was never directly targeted, but for others…" he trailed off.

He didn't know. He thought she was a victim. Cassiopeia swallowed, burying her feelings and putting up her familiar defences. He would never know, she vowed, he couldn't know what she had did. There were broken families ripped apart today because of her actions, they were the real victims. But Glynn couldn't know that. It was a shameful secret she could never divulge to anyone, especially him.

She swallowed thickly, "I actually think I might have had some experience with that particular curse. I'm not sure, but I think once…perhaps…" she trailed off, trying to remember her feelings on the night she met the dark lord.

Glyn's sorrow melted to fascination as his eyes sharpened, "Really?" he asked, his eagerness to learn more warring with his surprise at her confession. She nodded uncertainly, glancing sideways at him carefully, trying to register his response.

"But that means…" He trailed off, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her to his side. She shook her head and he let that particular detail drop.

"What was it like?" his eagerness won the battle and he was rapt with attention, trying to catch her every word.

"It's strange. Mind you, I'm not sure it was that particular spell. Your thoughts go empty, and there is a voice in your head, whispering to you, and oh what a wonderful idea everything seemed." She was back fully in the memory, a little girl, hungry and in search of food, meeting the most powerful wizard who had ever lived.

"All emotion is gone. All feeling is gone. All you can think of doing is listening to the voice." Her voice was quiet as her eyes narrowed, replaying the memory, wondering if it had indeed been the imperius curse. She had come so close to him, without hesitation. She had felt very little of the fear that she would feel during later encounters with the man.

She glanced back at Glynn, momentarily forgetting he was even there, so lost in the memory. He looked into the distance, his arms tight around her, and hunger and yearning lingered in his eyes. She froze at the startling realisation that her description only served to pique his interest more, he was enraptured and almost entranced. Her stomach flipped nervously, and she shifted uncomfortably. His looked was that of someone who was desperate for something, and she worried she knew exactly what.

He asked a few more questions, pumping her for information, and when she finally ran out of details he sighed and relaxed against the tree, pulling her even closer to him, gently kissing the top of her head. "I am sorry you ever had to experience that Cassiopeia. Thank you for indulging me, I promise, that ill try and protect you from that ever happening again." His words were quiet and the pair drifted off into an amicable silence, both pondering the implications of the conversation.

Cassiopeia didn't understand why she felt so uneasy, she pushed those traitorous feelings away and comforted herself in the knowledge that her boyfriend still accepted her. That their relationship was still strong, even in his scant knowledge of her past and darker interests.

Glynn was one of the best people she knew. If he could have these interests, just how bad could she really be?

Xxx

Spring turned into summer and Cassiopeia found herself feuding with Glynn in the final weeks of the term. She had stayed late after class with Professor Quirrell, asking him for help with some difficult readings for her ancient runes class. She always found Professor Quirrell a greater help than Professor Babbling, the ancient runes teacher.

Professor Babbling was a rather absent minded woman, often getting distracted when teaching her students. And where Professor Quirrell had the same problem, Professor Babbling's tangents were neither interesting nor useful, and instead focussed on subject matters entirely unrelated and irrelevant. When she was on topic, Professor Babbling had a very difficult time illustrating information, and she had little patience for those students, namely Cassiopeia, who had read ahead.

In fact, Professor Babbling open disliked Cassiopeia, disapproving of the girl's tendency to delve deeper into topics, lamenting that she would surely learn it wrong, and that no third year had the ability to just figure it out on their own.

Obviously Cassiopeia had not figured out what she knew thus far on her own. She had help from Professor Flitwick and Professor Quirrell in her first two years. This fact seemed to cause the professor to dislike her even more, possibly offended that Cassiopeia sought out those who taught other subjects for help in her own.

Professor Quirrell disliked Professor Babbling, and seemed to take a quiet satisfaction by needling her with the information that her own student came to him for help. Cassiopeia had been honestly surprised to see this trait in her shy and reserved muggle studies professor, figuring he'd avoid confrontation at all costs. But it seemed needling the Ancient Runes professor was acceptable and entertaining for him because she did not react openly, instead huffing and puffing quietly, and taking out her anger on Cassiopeia directly.

Despite the consequences of further angering her teacher, she continued going to Professor Quirrell for help, and he seemed to enjoy giving it to her. One such study session had been unplanned, and had ran longer than either had really expected, as Professor Quirrell got lost down a theoretical rabbit hole and was lecturing about Ancient Runes and curses, a topic she found fascinating.

It wasn't until her stomach growled that she realised how much time had passed. She had originally made plans to meet with Glynn for a session in the library, but talking with Quirrell had distracted her. Excusing herself from the impromptu lesson, she went to go find Glynn at dinner. She figured once she explained what had happened, he would understand and all would be well.

Glynn did not understand. After berating her, in front of a reasonable group of people, that she had been inconsiderate, and disrespectful, that he had worried about her when she didn't show up, and had lost valuable study time he would never get back, and that she should have thought about how her actions affected others. He called her selfish and immature, and stormed off after his tirade, barely letting her get a word in edgewise.

The witnessing students snickered at her expense, and Cassiopeia felt her throat thickening with tears from his reprimand. She had been selfish; she realised, and had really done harm to her relationship. She adored Glynn and if he didn't do well on his exams, it was solely on her. He was right about everything. Slowly spiralling into her own dark thoughts, she barely noticed Nymphadora approach her until she wrapped her arm around her sisters and told everyone still lingering to bugger off.

"Come on Cass, Gambol's just being a git, of course s'not your fault you got distracted." Dora tried reassuring her, "And besides who needs him anyways? You practically spend every waking second with him, its good for you to talk to other people, even if it is only a weird professor."

Anger flashed through Cassiopeia, what did she know about Glynn? She had never liked him much, and now she was trying to poison her against him. She didn't know how kind and sweet he was, how perfect he could be. She shrugged off Dora's comforting embrace and stormed off, with barely a sod off in response.

Glynn ignored her for a week. That would have been bad enough, but he had also neglected to give her the potions she so depended on. The potions that he had taken to brewing her every week, ensuring she had the highest quality ingredients.

She found it hard to sleep, her mind exhausted and her skin crawling. She broke out into a cold sweat and found her muscles going into spasms. She lost all of her appetite, everything she attempted to eat finding its way back out of her almost instantly. She had a pounding headache that didn't seem to go away. She found herself pale, clammy, and couldn't focus in class.

Her professors noticed of course, most offering words of concern. Professor McGonagall even went so far as to send her to the hospital wing, when she noticed the poor girl shivering in the back of the class, her hands shaking so hard that she could barely turn the page without ripping it.

Professor Snape had given her detention when the fumes reacted negatively with her headache, causing her to lose concentration and explode the cauldron. His eyes narrowed and he sent her out of the classroom to sit in the hallway as a temporary punishment, instructing her to return once class was finished.

She stood awkwardly in front of his desk as he ignored her while he organised the student vials placed upon it. She scowled, growing tired of everyone ignoring her.

"Tell me why, Miss _Tonks,_ were you in my class today when Professor McGonagall informed me she had sent you to the Hospital Wing, ill." He drawled, emphasising the name he knew to be false.

Her scowl deepened. "I am feeling much better sir." She said bitterly, grasping her shaking hands in an effort to get them to stop. Her temper was short and her head felt like it was about to split open.

"Fine…" his eyes met hers for a second, and she looked away quickly, making her face carefully blank.

"Fine you say. And yet you somehow manage to blow up a cauldron in your fine health. Are you telling me you are just an imbecile and not sick?"

"yes sir, and imbecile as you say." She responded bitterly.

He was silent.

"Hogwarts has a long history of students overindulging in certain potions." He said pointedly.

"I have no idea what you are talking about professor. Can I please be excused?"

"The symptoms are quite severe. And the longer a witch or wizard takes certain potions, the more intense the side effects, and the longer it takes to get over them." He warned, ignoring that she had even spoken.

"Of course, as a potion's master, I am very well versed in such side effects and can help alleviate them. It is neither easy nor painless, but it is possible. If a student so decides that is the best course of action."

Cassiopeia almost growled at the man, exhaustion now taking over what had once been anxious energy. "Sir, I will reiterate, in case you are hard of hearing after my unfortunate explosion. I have no idea what you are talking about. Sir."

The professor's face fell into a sneer, his lip curling cruelly. "Very well then, two weeks detention with yours truly, to atone for this supposed hearing loss. Now get out of my sight before I take points."

With a sigh of relief she fled the classroom as quickly as she could, searching out Glynn to see if there was anything she could do to make everything between them right again. Fighting was exhausting for her, and it had been a very long time, months in fact, since she had so little contact with the boy.

Glynn finally acknowledged her, though coolly, and listened passively to her apology. By he end of it, his face had cracked and he very slowly gave her the thing that she needed most. Another potion. She gratefully sucked it down, not bothering with measuring out a proper dose, and sighed in relief as her body thrummed with a familiar energy.

Glynn wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. "I am so sorry Cassiopeia, but you have to understand why I was so cold to you. You had to understand what it was like to be stood up and ignored. You had to experience how I felt when you didn't show up. I am sorry you got detention Cassie, but you did bring this on yourself."

She nodded into his shoulder, almost crying in relief at having Glynn back. She had missed him dearly, and had suffered away from him. He was just trying to teach her a lesson, one that she knew she wouldn't have understood if he had just told her his feelings. She took the lesson to heart and vowed to never make Glynn feel that way again.

She wasn't sure she would be strong enough if she was separated from him again.

Xxx

A/N hope you enjoyed! im really not being subtle about what type of person Glynn is, mainly because I am jumping between important milestones in their relationship. This chapter effectively ends her third year and his fifth year. The year is 1987-1988


	15. Chapter 15: Nymphadora's Rage

_A/N So if you didnt notice, this fic is rated M. This chapter includes probably the only sexual-ish scene in the fic, at least the only one I have planned. It also includes slightly dubious consent, but nothing graphic nor explicit, but if you are sensitive about that, feel free to skip the first section of this chapter. The next section is marked is a lot of xxxs instead of the customary 3, as well as a little extra spacing. Y'all been warned._

The summer before her fourth year Cassiopeia spent predominantly in her bedroom, listening to music and writing Glynn letters. His parents had whisked him away to the continent for the whole summer, but he still managed to send her a letter at least every other day, and her weekly supply of potions.

Over the holidays Cassiopeia worked on lowering her doses overall, no longer having a schedule that required such late nights nor early mornings. She was moderately successful, halving her usual dose with minimal side effects.

She also spent some time with Nymphadora, something that she really never did while at school. It was always hard to find the time at Hogwarts to spend time with the Hufflepuff, between her classes, studying and now Glynn. The girls bonded over music, with Cassiopeia expanding the girl's music taste exponentially, and gossiping about boys and other classmates. It was fun, and so refreshing to just talk about nothing with someone. Glynn was so intense sometimes that it was hard to relax and talk about silly things.

In August Glynn sent her a letter that surprised her. He was coming back from his holiday early, to do his school shopping in London and to celebrate his birthday. He asked if there was any way she could accompany him in Diagon Alley on the special day, preferably without a chaperone. It took a lot of pleading and subtle manipulation to get the Tonks' to agree to let her go to the shopping street alone.

She had written to her Aunt Narcissa asking if she could take her shopping for a catch up in the city, which her aunt had immediately and wholeheartedly agreed to. After showing this letter to the Tonks' as proof of her plans with her aunt, she wrote back to Narcissa lamenting that she was unfortunately busy the day they had set, and asked if she could push it back a week and maybe make it a dinner instead. Narcissa was a little disappointed, but still agreed that a dinner after a shopping trip sounded marvellous as well.

With her plans in place she travelled via floo to the Leaky Cauldron into the waiting arms of her boyfriend. He was grinning ear to ear, hugging her warmly and whispering sweet words into her ear, about how much he missed her, and how happy he was to finally be back with her. Cassiopeia glowed at the praise, returning the sentiment, smiling happy back up at him. She was back where she was supposed to be, in the orbit of this brilliant and amazing boy.

They did all of their school shopping quickly, Glynn telling her all about his holiday with his parents, and gushing how he had a surprise for her, some plans he had made for his birthday. Once finished with school shopping, Cassiopeia whisked him away for lunch at a posh café she had gone to with her aunt once. With the subtle drop of Narcissa's name they were promptly seated. Cassiopeia presented his present to him discreetly, asking him to not open it when they were in public, looking around for any possible eavesdroppers. Glynn grinned wickedly, his eyes sparkling as he winked at her suggestively, casually mentioning how he had the perfect place to open it in mind. Cassiopeia was confused but gave him a small smile nonetheless, the boy was being secretive, he was definitely up to something, but she knew better than to question him. She didn't want to risk his ire on his birthday of all days.

After wandering around aimlessly, the boys plans became immediately clear when he led to the back of a pub into a private sitting room he had booked for them. The room was small, with heavy drapes pulled across the window, blocking any light from coming in. Dozens of candles were lit to make up for the darkness, and a fire was cracking merrily in the hearth. Glynn led her by the hand to a love seat nestled against a wall, taking their assorted shopping bags out of her hands and placing them safely on the ground.

"I thought it would be a nice treat for us to be alone. Truly alone." He said softly, pulling her into the seat next to him. "I booked this place for a few hours, its soundproofed, with a lock, and no one will bother us. We can just sit and relax without worrying about anyone hearing or seeing what we do." He looked at her expectantly, red tingeing his ears and rising up his neck.

Cassiopeia blushed too, as she understood the implications. It wasn't a proper room with a bed, but it wasn't far from it, and she was mildly uncomfortable about the situation, as it was completely foreign territory for her. But she was with Glynn, and she trusted his judgement, and it was his birthday afterall.

"This is wonderful Glynn," she said softly, leaning in to kiss him softly, relishing in the privacy slightly. She was always a little self-conscious when they kissed in very public places; the sitting room was quiet and a perfect place for her to enjoy the activity in.

"Why don't I open you present, I am dying to know what it is," Glynn pulled away, smiling warmly at her. Cassiopeia nodded eagerly, butterflies gathering in her stomach. She wasn't sure whether her nervousness was from the possibilities of the sitting room, or his reaction to his present. She had taken a risk, but one that she was certain would pay off.

She hoped.

Glynn's face was inscrutable as he opened the parcel, staring intently at the cover of the book. She wasn't sure what his reaction would be, but the lack of reaction caused her butterflies to morph into full nausea. He didn't like it; she was so stupid, how could he like it?

"Is this what I think it is?" he looked up at her, his face deadly serious, an expression in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher. Her mouth felt dry. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, she berated herself.

"Uh, yes. I saw it, and just thought, since you said you had an interest." She starting rambling, trying to justify herself, trying to stem off what could possibly become a large fight.

"Where did you even find a book like this?" his voice was soft as he stroked the cover, "I understand now why you didn't want me to open it in public. Merlin, this might not even be legal. It's definitely frowned upon." Cassiopeia's mouth was dry, and she felt cold. The book was very probably highly illegal.

"I'm sorry Glynn, I can take it bac—"

"No." he was sharp, interrupting her while gently placing the book aside, stoking it once more.

"I, bloody hell Cassiopeia." He ran his hands through his hair, a familiar heat rising in his eyes as he looked at her, "I can never repay you for this. A practical guide and understanding of the imperius curse is something I've always wanted, but I was always afraid of. I didn't even know where to find a book like this, and you go an give it to me for my birthday." He moved closer to her, his eyes burning and his posture squared and powerful.

"Yes, well I thought for academic reasons—" she trailed off, entranced by the change to the boy.

"Yes—academic." And suddenly his lips were on her, hot and demanding, his hands plunging into her hair and wrapping around her waist, pulling her astride him on the love seat.

Cassiopeia's head swam as she adjusted to her new position, sitting atop her boyfriend, a leg on either side of his. His kiss was needy, powerful, and controlling, one hand tugging firmly on her hair with enough force to cause tiny fissures of pain across her scalp, and the other hand straying from the respectful placement on her waste a little lower to a new position that was definitely not respectful.

She didn't know what to do, she didn't want him to stop, her whole body feeling warm as she enjoyed his embrace, losing herself in his lips, pulling and biting at hers. She jerked slightly when she felt his cool hand on her lower back, having slipped it under her robe and under her shirt hem. She pulled back slightly, looking him quizzically in the eye.

His eyes were burning with heat and desire, his face and body flushed red. He raised his hips slightly, and Cassiopeia was shocked to feel something hard and insistent, down there press against her through the fabric. She blushed, completely taken aback and uncertain about what to do. She had never been in this situation, had never had a relationship, and certainly not one like this.

"I—Glynn," she started, uncertain what to say, "I've never…I'm not" she couldn't finish a single sentence; she could barely finish a thought.

"Its alright Cassiopeia," Glynn said softly, gently wrapping his hand around her cheek and kissing her softly, his smile was so warm, so pleasant. "This is normal for a relationship. Normal for us, and I've waited so long for this, please." Desperation flitted across his face for a second as his eyes quickly darted down to appreciate the view their position afforded him.

"I—Glynn, I'm not sure I'm ready for...that." she finally managed to choke out uncertainly. He gave her a warm smile, his hand rubbing small circles on her back.

"We won't go all the way, but I did want to take this opportunity for us to, well, explore let's say. I promise I wont do anything you don't want to do, and it is my birthday afterall. You wouldn't want to make me upset on my birthday would you?"

She bit her lip, thinking through his words. "I promise I will stop when you say you want to, but please Cassiopeia, I am not sure I can wait much longer. You do trust me don't you?" Hunger now flashed across his eyes. Cassiopeia hesitated for just a moment longer, she did trust him. With a cautious nod, she finally relented.

"I don't know what I'm doing." She felt as if her face was on fire she was so embarrassed by the situation.

Glynn chuckled lightly, his hands rubbing circles on her waist, nibbling at her neck and ear in her favourite places. "Don't worry Cass, just follow my lead." He murmured against her skin before attacking it with gusto.

Glynn flipped their positions so she was lying against the love seat, with him taking dominance over the top of her. One hand remained near wrapped around her chin, moving her head in whatever position he so like and the other tickled her bare stomach, slowly making its way up and under the front of her blouse.

"Just focus on me Cassiopeia, on what you are feeling. Let me know if it becomes too much," his voice was deep, husky as he struggled to control himself.

Cassiopeia was breathless as she tried to relax, focussing on what he was doing, the sensations he was causing her. She followed his directions, letting him take the lead and guide her through the process. He grabbed her hand, placing it where ever he desired it, gently murmuring how she should move, what pressure to apply. Her hands fumbled awkwardly, rubbing and pulling his growing sex, feeling an unfamiliar warmth pulse through her body as he lavished her chest, pulling and pinching and kissing.

By the end of it Cassiopeia was both topless and panting, full of pent up energy and yet yearning for something, her skin tingling and lightly sweaty. Glynn had pulled himself off of her at the last minute with a cry and laid half undone on the love seat, his face flushed red and glowing, gazing at her through half lidded eyes. His hand was resting on her stomach, lazily tracing designs on it, and he was smiling at her gently.

With a happy sigh he slowly laid out again on the couch, wrapping his arms around her middle and resting his face against her bare chest, and hummed in contentment.

"Cassiopeia Tonks," he started, gently kissing her again as his hand strayed back to her breasts, on full display much to her embarrassment, "You are the most amazing girl I've ever met. I think—I think I am in love with you."

Cassiopeia stilled in his arms, her breath catching. Did he—she paused, trying to process what he said. Glynn Gambol loved her. Her, he loved her, for all of her strangeness he still loved her. After everything he knew about her so far, her tendency for violence, her darker interests, her lack of social skills, Glynn Gambol still loved her. She glowed with happiness, nobody had ever said they loved her before, nobody that wasn't obligated to say such a thing at least, and yet the most amazing boy she had ever met, clever, powerful, and kind hearted Glynn Gambol loved her.

"I—" she wasn't sure what to say, and he looked up at her expectantly, a smile on his face. "I love you too." She responded, captivated by his crystal clear blue eyes. She loved his eyes, they had been one of the first things she had ever noticed about him, and she loved the emotion she saw in them now. Glynn Gambol was in love with her and she couldn't have been happier

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School started and Cassiopeia got back into the rhythm of balancing her coursework with her own personal research projects. It was one day, a little before Halloween when herself and Glynn were mostly studying, with occasional canoodling breaks, one their own projects in an empty corridor when Glynn surprised her once more.

Since Cassiopeia had confided in her boyfriend about her interest in curses, she had been more open with working on her research project in his company, just as he had been more comfortable reading books about certain types of dark magic around her.

Glynn was zoned out, thinking through something intently, gazing at her as he thought. Cassiopeia was used to this behaviour, Glynn often lived in his own head when he was studying something complicated or that really interested him, and she paid no mind to him.

"Cass?"

She paused, her finger marking her place in her book as she looked at the boy.

"Have you ever thought about making cursed objects?" his voice was quiet, his eyes darting around the abandoned corridor, wary of eavesdroppers.

"What?" she asked, completely taken aback.

"Well, hear me out. You say you want to study curses so you can understand how they are made, so you can unravel them. What better way to understand something than to actually create one, or maybe a few? And then break those curses. Some practical experience I think would greatly expand your understanding of such things."

Cassiopeia thought over his argument, weighing the pros and cons. Obviously creating curses were dangerous, and the logical result would be a cursed object that could seriously injure someone. But if she were careful, she would learn a lot more about the spell structures and diagrams, and if she started small, something not very dangerous, it would be educational.

"I never thought about trying honestly. It seems dangerous, and if anyone found out here…." She trailed off, swallowing reflexively as she thought about the punishment she would surely face. They would expel her definitely, but given her heritage, she wouldn't be surprised if they tried to lock her up, or take her wand and throw her back in the muggle world, at the very least. It was risky.

"I will help you of course. I mean, I don't want you getting hurt. But I think this might be the best course of action. I feel like you've hit a wall in your research, and that books can only get you so far. I know I feel like that sometimes. Some magical things need to be experienced to understand." He continued.

Cassiopeia nodded slowly, coming around to the idea. The risks were great, but so was the pay off. "I think ill start small, something relatively harmless…" her mind was racing, going through her mental catalogue of curses, trying to find the right one to start with.

A ring of hunger, she decided. Essentially it was a cursed item that fed slightly off the user, making them eat twice as much as they normally would to feel full. It was a simple curse, one that could easily be manipulated to be deadly, but could just as easily be manipulated to be a minor nuisance. Her mind raced as she began thinking through the components of such a curse, and she quickly pulled out a notebook to begin sketching the diagram of the spell.

Glynn was right as ever, forcing herself to even go through the motions of diagramming a curse was hugely educational as it highlighted many aspects that she realised she didn't understand about the process.

Xxx

Glynn, Cassiopeia realised, was not as popular as she once thought he was. It seemed he had managed to anger a great deal of students in the other houses, mainly due to his antics on the quidditch field, where his tactics were at times, questionably violent.

It was the heat of the game that brought on his ruthlessness in the sport, where his tackles were perhaps a bit too heavy handed, like when he accidentally tackled the Gryffindor seeker, knocking him out of the game and landing him in the hospital wing for nearly a week after suffering a fall. But honestly, Cassiopeia wondered why they were all playing the game if they couldn't handle if it got a bit rough some times. Glynn was just competitive, that was all.

Nevertheless Cassiopeia found herself stepping in more than a few times to break up or to finish a fight. Glynn was many things, but an excellent fighter was not one of them. Luckily for him, Cassiopeia was very well versed in fighting; it was something she had been doing for a large portion of her life. Not that Cassiopeia enjoyed the fighting, but she did not want anything bad to happen to her boyfriend, and she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate the attention he gave her after every conflict. He always seemed different, heated.

She couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly was different, but it was reminiscent to the day he asked her to be his girlfriend. After one such small confrontation, Glynn dragged her into an empty corridor and practically attacked her, pushing her against the wall, pressing himself against her, kissing her roughly, furiously. She was left breathless and light headed after the incident, panting roughly as he ravished her, all the while murmuring how much he loved her, and how happy he was that she was in his life.

She had confided in him that she had been afraid of what he would think of her, when he first saw her jinx someone. She worried that he would be horrified. She didn't like fighting, not really.

She didn't like the rush of power that flooded her after she won, the adrenaline that pumped through her system. It was a thrill, duelling with others, and it wasn't that the other students weren't sufficient duellists, quite the opposite, more than a few students had given her a solid challenge, and a few fights had been uncomfortably close. But she had one thing that none of the others had, an advantage. She had been taught by Bellatrix Lestrange herself how to fight, a woman who was taught by the Dark Lord. Hurting people was in her blood, woven into her very DNA, the Hogwarts student body never stood a chance against her.

Of course she didn't tell Glynn just how she had become such an accomplished duellist, but she did tell him it was an aspect of her personality, a particular skill that she would prefer not to use. She didn't want to hone it further; she would rather keep her head down, become invisible, and finish out her school career.

Glynn had hugged her to him firmly, whispering words of encouragement and absolution in her ear.

"Don't ever be ashamed of who you are Cassiopeia. We all have our talents, and yours just so happens to be in the marital side of magic. Others would use that talent to hurt people, or control others. You are using yours to protect the ones that you love. How can that be a bad thing?"

He was right of course. Glynn was always right. She wasn't fighting for the joy of it, for the thrill, though she did often feel slightly high after a good duel. She was doing it to protect the boy she loved. And wasn't love the most important thing in the world?

Of course the more than occasional fights landed Cassiopeia in plenty of detention, and unfortunately for her, it was often Professor Snape who caught her post duel. She wasn't sure whether the man was actively following her, or if she was just plain unlucky.

Cassiopeia would always take full responsibility of course, since technically it was her breaking the rules, Glynn was a prefect and on the quidditch team. He couldn't be implicated in such trouble making like she could. Cassiopeia knew she was definitely not on the short list for prefect next year, and had very little to lose.

Professor Snape would scowl at her, unconvinced that she just so happened to be involved in fights that seemed to stem from students with an open disagreement with her boyfriend. She would shrug and suggest that it was certainly a queer coincidence, but that she instigated everything. So spent most evenings with her dour head of house, scrubbing cauldrons, disembowelling animals for potions ingredients, and enduring more than a few surprisingly cutting scolding's from the man.

It always followed the same gist, his lectures; it was almost formulaic at this point. He would call her some variation of the word fool, or idiot if he was particularly angry. He would try to get a rise out of her by bringing up how useless her boyfriend must be if he was getting her to fight his battles. She would shrug, murmuring some poor excuse, he would then go on to tell her how this was negatively impacting her future, to which she would roll her eyes, knowing full well her marks were good enough to pass. Some days he would even go on to tell her she was blind, and that one day she would look back on these years with regret about how weak she was, following orders, before making a snide remark about how he really shouldn't be so surprised, that her parents also could do nothing more than blindly follow orders from others. She didn't understand his last remarks, but they stung nonetheless.

She would always twitch at the mention of her parents, but aside from that, she refused to give Snape the satisfaction of a reaction. What did he know anyway? He didn't know her life and he had some ridiculous animosity against Glynn.

She knew he didn't like Glynn, the boy had told her as much, mentioning how since they had started dating that Snape had been particularly vicious towards him, singling him out most classes, and docking house points at every opportunity. It was unfair, and Glynn posited it was because Snape did not look kindly at her attempt to foster inter house unity by dating someone outside of Slytherin.

Whatever his problem was, she was in love, and love would always win in the end. That was, afterall, what Dumbledore himself was always saying.

Winter passed and spring was upon Hogwarts. Cassiopeia had successfully created a few minor cursed items with the help of Glynn and she kept them safely stored in a box at the bottom of her trunk. Glynn was right as ever, it was a highly educational activity, she had realised there were still many large gaps in her knowledge, and was slowly filling in the things she didn't know. She wasn't far off from beginning to break said cursed items, her mind already starting to find weaknesses in the spells, slowly unpicking each one that she had created.

It was just after the Easter Holiday, when Glynn's arguments came to a head during the build-up to the exams. Cassiopeia was on her way to meet her boyfriend out on the school grounds where they were going to take a mental health break from studying and just relax in the almost warm sunshine by the lake, when she saw the small group of students gathered around two students, who were squaring off against each other.

With a jolt she recognised the two figures, it was Glynn and Charlie Weasley. She knew Charlie was in the same year as Glynn, but she didn't know that the two spoke to each other, let alone have enough animosity to fuel the scene that was unfolding in front of her. Glynn had never mentioned Charlie, and a dark thought had crossed her mind. Glynn may have never mentioned Charlie, but she had mentioned the boy in passing to her boyfriend, remarking how her and Charlie had known each other for years, in fact he was one of her oldest acquaintances, and that they had been quite close as children. It was a throwaway comment, something she said and almost immediately forgot. Maybe he didn't forget it.

"Cassiopeia!" Glynn called, throwing his arm out, beckoning her to his side, never breaking eye contact with the ginger boy in front of him. She reluctantly answered his call, taking her place at his side, looking between the two of them uncertainly.

She wrapped her arm around her boyfriend, embracing him from the side and kissing him gently on the cheek, "Glynn, what's going on?" she whispered in his ear.

"Weasley here is being impertinent and seems to be itching for a duel I'd say. Maybe we should indulge him." He murmured back, wrapping his arm securing around her waist, pulling her tight against him, his hand lingering a little lower than she was strictly comfortable with in public.

Cassiopeia swallowed, looking at the Weasley boy carefully. His face was pale in rage, his eyes narrowed and his ear were flaming bright red to match his hair. Whatever had happened between the two boys, it seemed to have really affected Charlie. She had never seen him so angry before.

"Get out of here Cass, this doesn't concern you. This is between your prat of a boyfriend and me." Charlie growled, tightening his grip on his wand.

A flash of irritation lanced through her body, how dare he use her nickname, like he was familiar with her? They had barely spoken in years, and the first thing he says to her is an insult to her boyfriend.

"Calm down Charlie, and put your wand away before you get hurt." She raised the hand not wrapped around Glynn up in a placating gesture. "Whatever it is, I am sure we can move past it."

"Tell that to the git standing next to you. He started this whole thing." Charlie growled, now pointing his wand directly at Glynn.

Cassiopeia dropped her placating gesture, her eyes honing in on Charlie's eyes, carefully looking for any warning of attack. Her hand snaked into her pocket, clutching her own wand.

"Or is he going to hide behind you again, like he always does. Such a man Gambol that you have to hide behind a girl." The crowd gathering around the growing confrontation snickered at this. It had become a little bit of a running joke at the school, Glynn rarely ever fought his battles, he had his girlfriend for that. Cassiopeia twitched at the sound, her eyes narrowing further.

"If you're not careful Weasley, this girl will beat you into next week without breaking a sweat. You should know what I am capable of better than most." Her voice was quiet, calm, and very serious.

The smile fell off Charlie's face and the red flush spread to his neck, peeking over the top of his robes. "Leave it be Cass I don't want to fight you, but I will if you take his side. You didn't hear what he said, he messed with my family."

Cassiopeia jerked her head slightly, glancing sideways at her boyfriend who refused to make eye contact with her. Glynn didn't know how she felt about the Weasley family. She had never spoken to him about it, but she was certain that Glynn had never met the Weasleys. What had he said?

"You're either with me or against me Cassiopeia." Glynn hissed quietly to her, his fingers digging into her hip.

Cassiopeia looked back at Charlie, a grim resolve set on her face. Glynn was right of course, he always was. She was always going to protect him, for so long as he was her boyfriend. It was what was expected of her in their relationship. She was with him, and he was against Charlie, which meant she was against Charlie.

Charlie may have been there for her when she needed him most when she a child. But she was no longer a child, and he had ignored her in favour of his own friends. He did not hold her loyalty. She wasn't going to start this fight, but she was going to end it if need be.

"What's the matter Weasley, cant bear to hear the truth about that pathetic brood you call a family?" Glynn taunted, Cassiopeia's eye twitched slightly as she heard the words leave her boyfriends mouth. His voice was cold and mocking, his grin cruel. She was going to have to have a talk with him when this was all over.

It was just enough to push Charlie over the edge; with an angry yell he launched a red jet of light at the boy, with a few more spells in succession.

Charlie was angry and unskilled at duelling; he was always more of a pacifist, preferring diplomacy to violence. Because of this, his movements were exaggerated and slow, it gave Cassiopeia more than enough time to read what he was going to do and respond.

She pushed Glynn out of the way, stepping in front of him and meeting Charlie's spells head on. Though sloppily cast, they were quite strong from his obvious anger and indignation, Cassiopeia re-directed the first two, and blocked his third spell. She returned fire, throwing two spells in quick succession. Charlie managed to block the first one, but he had no time to block the second spell. She saw it in his eyes, the exact moment when he realised he was in trouble. She saw the resignation turn to shock when the spell never hit.

It had been blocked. Blocked by a livid Hufflepuff fifth year, a fifth year who just so happened to be her sister.

"How. Dare. You." Nymphadora hissed, her hair a brilliant shade of red, a contrast to her face that was pale with anger.

"Dora?!" Cassiopeia said, reeling back slightly in shock, "How did you-?" she hadn't seen her coming. She hadn't realised the girl was so bloody fast.

"Who do you think you are?" Dora hissed, ignoring that Cassiopeia had ever said anything. "You choose that arsehole of a boyfriend over the Weasley's? After everything you've been through together?" Dora's voice was shaking, she was so angry.

Cassiopeia's eyes narrowed, her eyes flashing in irritation. What did she know, who did she think she was?

"With all due respect Dora, you don't know anything about that. Or me." Her voice was soft, warning and she tightened her grip on her wand.

Nymphadora laughed bitterly, "I know enough. I know that you are a selfish, narcissistic parasite who is so desperate for validation and acceptance that she'll turn against any and everyone who had ever tried to help her. Including the boy who she once claimed saved her life. Everyone thinks you are different from _her_ , but they're wrong, you're exactly like _her_. Like _them._ "

Cassiopeia's lip curled and she glared at the crowd around them, hissing in distaste as she heard the whispers already starting. "Dora, this is neither the time nor the place for this conversation." She growled, panic starting to build in her chest. Dora was so close to saying something she could never take back.

"Nymphadora, this is between your myself, Weasley, and your sister—" Glynn didn't get to finish his sentence though; Nymphadora interrupted him with a cold, condescending laugh.

"Sister?! This witch isn't my sister. She's some stray my parents picked up when she was 11 because they felt sorry for her and wanted to help. They gave her everything, a house, food, clothing, unconditional love—"

"Dora," Cassiopeia hissed, taking a few steps forward, her panic turning into a desperate cold rage. "Dora, shut the bloody hell up, or ill make you." She never wanted to hurt the girl as much as she wanted to then and there. The whispers in the crowd grew louder as Dora continued on, undeterred.

"My name is Tonks!" she cried, cutting off Cassiopeia, "Tonks! Something you are not. You took my dad's name, something he gave to you to help you fit in, to help you assimilate into wizarding society without stigma and you repay him by trodding all over it. You are a blood supremacist apologist, you willingly spend time with people who shit over the muggle name you gratefully took all those years ago. You shed your only friends, because somebody better came along despite years of friendship, and now you turn on the family that took you in when nobody else would. Who risked their lives to help you. You attack the one person who first tried to help you, for what? A boyfriend with a broomstick up his arse and a superiority complex? He is using you Cassiopeia, its plain as day to see, even you must know, deep down." Dora was panting now, years of pent up frustration finally coming out.

"Dora." Her voice was cold, "You don't know the first bloody thing about me. You don't know what it was like for me." Her voice was barely above a whisper; she had taken a few steps closer to her adopted sister, her anger barely contained under the surface.

"Oh boo hoo!" Dora shouted, rubbing her eyes in a cruel pantomime of crying, "Woe is me! Poor baby Cassiopeia! My life was soooo hard. Get _over_ yourself!" Her mouth curled into a snarl, "Guess what? We all went through a bloody war. It wasn't just you. I spent my whole early childhood on the run, moving from place to place, always looking over my shoulder because people wanted to kill my whole family simply because we existed. Charlie here doesn't have any aunts or uncles because they were murdered; you have classmates who are orphaned because of the war. There are actual victims of the war probably in this crowd. But you, you are the most despicable type of person. Because you weren't a victim were you? No, the greatest loss you suffered was that your side lost."

Cassiopeia was only a few steps away from Nymphadora now, her blood rushing in ears, dulling everything except the words coming from the older girl. She ground her teeth, her fists clenching and unclenching unconsciously; she was cold, beyond even anger. Her face was twisted into a hideous snarl, a look that frightened most of those close enough to see it, though Nymphadora was so wound up that if she noticed the look, she paid it no mind.

"What is she talking about Cassiopeia?" She distantly heard Glynn ask the question softly, confusion filling his voice. He hated being confused and he would be angry at her later, but she was beyond caring what Glynn felt. She was beyond caring anything that wasn't shutting the girl up.

"What?! You haven't figured it out yet? A bit dull for a Ravenclaw aren't you?" Nymphadora was nearly hysterical now that she had started unleashing her anger. Cassiopeia coldly wondered how long she had bottled all of these emotions up. How long had she thought all of these things? How long had she hated her? Were there signs that she missed?

Cassiopeia briefly thought over every snide comment, every huff and puff the girl made, every time she stormed off and wondered why she never noticed the animosity before. She had been complacent, blind, and weak. And she was paying for it now.

"She's been lying since the very first day she set foot on the Hogwarts Express. She isn't a Tonks at all, but a Lestr—AARGH!" Nymphadora cried, clutching her nose, doubled over in pain as blood flowed freely through her fingers. Cassiopeia flexed her fingers carefully, barely wincing as pain lanced through her knuckles and up her forearm.

"Merlinth's hairy bollockths! I thenk you broke mah nothe!" Dora doubled over, groaning in pain.

Cassiopeia stood over the girl, examining her dispassionately. Her knuckles were throbbing, and she weighed the pros and cons of kicking the girl while she was down or waiting for her to stand up again so she could throw another punch.

But she had been too late in shutting up the stupid girl. She could already hear it, the whispers around her, shock and horror colouring the voices of her classmates. _Lestrange._ They shared with each other, _Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange. Death Eaters._ When had the crowd grown so large? Over two dozen students stood witness to Nymphadora's rage.

Charlie ran to Nymphadora side, fussing over her, trying to help, all while finding the time to throw a death glare at Cassiopeia. His eyes were shocked, filled with anger not at the revelation that was currently rocking her classmates, Charlie knew who she was. He was angry that she had attacked her own sister; he looked at her like he didn't know her. Charlie Weasley looked at her with disgust and disdain.

She revelled in the look, finding a sick sort of joy in his disgust. There was no more hiding, no more pretending for her. Now everyone knew just what type of person she was. Charlie Weasley was no longer deluded into thinking that she was a good person, because she most certainly was not. She could finally relax, drop the multiple faces she wore, she could be the person that everyone hated.

She briefly considered punching him too, for good measure. But potential attacks were put on immediate hold when the whispering around her grew suddenly very silent.

"Just what—Heavens! Miss Tonks, Mr Weasley what happened?"

It was Professor McGonagall, her face pale and her lips pressed into a thin line as she took in the scene in front of her. A heavy hand clamped onto her shoulder, squeezing almost painfully.

Brilliant. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Just bloody peachy.

Snape didn't say anything; he didn't need to. His look told her all she needed to know. She was in serious trouble.

McGonagall was already handling the situation, dispersing the crowd and ordering Charlie to escort a still moaning Nymphadora to the hospital wing. She gathered a few loose details from the spectators before shooing them away. She sent a few stragglers to inform the other heads of the house about the confrontation, this was a confrontation that included every house, a situation that required all of their immediate attention.

"And perhaps inform the headmaster as well." Came Snape's silky drawl, his cold eyes never leaving his student.

Cassiopeia was still cold, numb to everything. She looked at everything through a lens of calculation, and if she was correct, she was royally screwed.

As Snape marched her away, she could hear the whispers already travelling about the school. She was never Cassiopeia Tonks. She was Cassiopeia _Lestrange_.

Xxx

 _Another A/N Sorry about the time it's taken to update this! Thank you for the good reviews, shoutout to_ _brnicholas for his nice words, and to a few new followers! There is one more Glynn chapter after this, before we move onto new things. This fight with Dora was something ive been planning for ages, literally since chapter 1, and am so happy to finalllllly get to it! They've got a long way to repair their relationship, if they ever do. It's nice to have another character point out all the downright shitty things Cassiopeia is doing, and to get another point of view that is not as biased as our MCs, as well as drop a few more plot points I have also developed ages ago but had to wait for. The story is finally at an interesting point, and we'll be slowing down a little through the next few years since Cassiopeia is finally a teenager. Hope you're all still enjoying, reviews as ever are great, for the like dozen people who are still with us at this point! :)_

 _cheers,_

 _Tibys_


	16. Chapter 16: Glynn Gambol Part III

_A/N A long chapter this time around. There is some light non con later in this chapter, it isnt explicit, but well...its a dark story and rated M._

Cassiopeia squirmed in her chair uncomfortably; her hand still throbbing in beat with her heart, pains shooting briefly up her forearm. The pain lingered mainly around her ring and pinkie fingers, radiating out. She noticed with some grim satisfaction that her knuckles were swollen and there were a few scratches across the top of her hand.

It had been a long time since she had punched someone, really punched someone hard. It had been very satisfying in the moment, and definitely a well deserved in her personal opinion. It was this satisfaction she clung through as she sat in her chair, studiously ignoring the people in the chairs next to hers, facing four angry heads of houses.

"Over 30 years I've been teaching at this school, and in all my years I have never once had to convene a meeting with every head of house for circumstances such as this. The blatant disregard for the rules and the lack of respect you have shown for not only each other, but this school…" Professor McGonagall was on a roll, speaking sharply.

"And you Mr Gambol, a prefect is expected to act with the utmost integrity in every situation, to be at the centre of this conflict, which I may remind you resulted in the not insignificant injury to another student..." Professor Flitwick joined in, scolding Glynn who had slid down in his chair sullenly, looking suitably shamefaced.

"While admirable your intentions Miss Tonks, standing in to help another student, your handling of the situation simply elevated the fight instead of relieving it, making you just as party to this as the others…" Professor Sprout scolded Nymphadora, who sat rigidly in her chair, her posture defiant and expression fierce. Her eyes were changing colours rapidly, and her hair was a deep, pulsating red, reacting to her indignation and anger.

The three professors continued, feeding off each other's tirade, each singling out their particular student that was involved in what they referred to as the 'incident'.

"And you Severus, have you nothing to add to this?" Professor McGonagall turned her ire to the silent Potions Master.

She had a point, while all the other heads have strong words for the children; Professor Snape had been quietly examining his student, staring at her through narrowed eyes, his hands folded calmly upon his desk. Every other Professor was outwardly displaying some very strong, negative emotion, from anger, to disappointment, and consternation. Professor Snape was detached from it all, something that had finally caught the attention of his colleagues.

"Not at all Professor," he drawled, "Miss …Tonks and I are certainly due a very serious and undoubtedly long conversation about her remaining future in this school. A conversation that we will be having imminently, upon the dismissal of her fellow troublemakers, in private, before taking matters to the headmaster himself." Severus examined his fingernails lazily as he said this, ignoring the shocked looks flicker across those remaining in the room. Even Nymphadora paled, her posture dropping and her hair losing some of its red vibrancy.

"Sure you don't mean…?" Professor Sprout started, "Severus, Professor Snape, yes her actions were rather rash, I think expulsion might be a little bit of an over reaction don't you think?" It was Professor Flitwick, who looked genuinely worried for one of his favourite students.

Professor Snape's lip curled as he looked at the small man, "Despite what you wish, I must remind you Filius for what seems to be the hundredth time that Cassiopeia Tonks is my student, and is therefore mine to handle as I see fit. You manage your conniving eagle and I'll handle my troublesome student." He hissed.

Cassiopeia schooled her face, pulling the cold rage she felt earlier back to the surface, letting it dull her finer emotions, letting it completely overwhelm her. She would not be weak, and she would take each punch as it came.

Expulsion.

The word made a cold sweat break out across her forehead, and she continued her avoidance of everyone in the now very quiet room. She could feel everyone watching her, each with their own emotions and opinions plain in their gaze. Worry, shock, and trepidation, but it was Professor Snape's gaze she felt the most, it was intent, searching, and cold.

She bowed her head and began mentally reciting one of her favourite songs. When that didn't distract her sufficiently from her fear she began to mental unravel a spell diagram for one of her cursed objects, a desperate attempt at brainstorming something to distract her from her current reality. It was only partially successful.

The professors finished not much after the Slytherin Head's announcement of their conversation, each doling out punishments and warnings to their students before dismissing them with a warning not to get into any more trouble. They were on very thin ice.

It was a minor miracle that neither Charlie nor Glynn were barred from their respective quidditch teams, and Glynn was still allowed to keep his prefect badge. Professor's McGonagall and Flitwick however cautioned that if they stepped one foot out of line, even a toe, then both privileges would be lost.

Cassiopeia remained frozen in her seat while the others filed out the room, she carefully avoided her professor's eyes, her fingers reflexively going to her silver bracelet, letting the cold rage at her parents overtake her as she felt the stroked the smooth metal under her fingertips. The rage washed over her, blotting out all other emotions, leaving her cold, rational, and ready for a fight.

The door closed with a heavy thump, and silence reigned for a few uncomfortable moments. The silence started to break through the coldness that Cassiopeia was so desperately trying to maintain. She began to fidget, before taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Do you recall Miss Tonks a conversation we had in your first year, during one of your detentions?" Professor Snapes voice was quiet, calm as he continued his examination.

"No? Pity, well allow me to jog your memory then, I asked you, a few short years ago, whether you were going to be a problem here at Hogwarts. I was concerned about a few shall we say similarities between you and your parents. You assured me that we would have no problem, and yet here we are." He spread his hand out, gesturing between them.

She did recall. It had been when she was serving detention in her first year, when she found out that Professor Snape was one of the few people who had always known who she really was. Her blood chilled as she remembered what he said he would do if he found there were too many similarities.

"I must say you have been doing an exceptionally poor job at convincing me you should remain at this institution. You have no regard for the rules, you are at odds with what seems like most of the school at this point, duelling and who knows what else you are up to, I do have some suspicions for your other activities, alas proof has yet to materialise definitively." He never raised his voice, his tone was perfectly even.

"Some of the professors here view you as a gifted witch, one who could go forth and be more than just a productive member of wizarding society. Professor Flitwick seems to have the delusion that you could really make a difference in the theoretical charms field, as he has found the need to continuously inform me. And yet all I see is a foolish, maladjusted child who resorts to violence above all else. I see a girl who is playing with fire, and is slowly burning the whole house down around her. I see someone who is growing up to be exactly that what she so despises, I see a future Lestrange.

Every student who leaves the Slytherin house is a reflection upon myself as its head. And I will be damned if I let another Lestrange graduate from this house and go into wizarding society to cause the same havoc your parents did. If you continue on this path, I will personally escort you out of this school and ensure the destruction of your wand." He never raised his voice, his face was completely emotionless, and he was very matter of fact about the whole situation. It chilled her to her bones.

"You have a choice Miss Tonks that you need to make right now." Professor Snape leaned back into his chair, folding his hands calmly on his desk.

"You can take this warning to heart and work on becoming at the very least a less violent member of society. As your head of house I am obligated to offer assistance if you so desire. I highly recommend accepting said assistance because you obviously have little to no self-control. Or you can continue down the path you are on now, in which case I suggest we move this conversation to the headmaster's office."

Cassiopeia swallowed nervously, "I don't want to be expelled sir." Her voice was so small and she shrunk into her chair, covering her face entirely with her long curls. "Please sir, I cant be expelled." She sounded desperate, weak.

"Know this Miss Tonks, if you set a single toe out of line, you are out of this school. And not just this year, I mean any serious infractions for the rest of your career here at Hogwarts and I will make certain of your expulsion. As for your punishment for now, I'd say double detention with me for the rest of the term, 50 points from Slytherin house and a letter written in your own hand explaining to your adopted parents just why you broke their daughters nose. Are we clear?"

She nodded weakly, feeling nauseous at the thought of how close she had come to getting kicked out of Hogwarts.

"Then get out of my sight and report back to me at 6 for your detention."

She slunked out of room quickly, trying to put as much distance between her and the professor as possible.

Xxx

She kept her head down for the following few days, darting quickly between classes and going back to her common room immediately after. She went to breakfast ridiculously early, always one of the first ones in the hall and rushed back to her dorms shortly after. She rationed out her potions, lowering her doses, trying to make the supply she had last as long as possible.

Her classes were unbearable; everyone stared at her with emotions ranging from disgust to outright hatred. Her parents had been prolific death eaters, and it seemed they had left a mark on most wizarding families. Everyone who was around during the war was either personally affected by the Lestranges, or had friends who were. Everywhere she went she heard whispers, about the atrocities committed during the war, about Azkaban, and about how she must have been complicit in it. Nobody wanted to sit next to her in her classes, and she almost cried when Daniel Jones, the Gryffindor whom she had once thought of as her dearest friend, reluctantly took the empty seat at her desk. Though he did not acknowledge her, completely ignoring any small attempt she made at talking to him, she felt a little warm just by the gesture.

The real person she was avoiding however was her boyfriend Glynn. She didn't know how he had taken the news about her true identity. She had lied to him for their whole relationship, and it had come out in a very public way. She knew he must be livid and she wasn't certain whether they were even an item anymore. She worried about his anger, about his rejection, and she felt sick when she tried to imagine a life without him. Also, on a very practical level, he kept her supply of potions, and she was rapidly running out, with exams coming up, it was now more important than ever that she should focus.

The decision to speak to Glynn was made for her however when she left breakfast early once morning. Glynn was leaning against the wall next to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Aside from the general sleepiness in his gaze, he was emotionless, studying her carefully as she walked slowly to her destination. Her stomach flipped and she regretted eating the bit of beans and toast she managed earlier.

She stopped a few feet away from him, burying her face behind her curls, fidgeting nervously.

"Don't hide from me Cass," his voice was soft, his gaze still intent on the girl.

She fought the urge to bury herself deeper behind her wild mane of hair, but reluctantly pushed some of it away, behind her ear.

"You lied to me." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, not exactly. More like omitted information." Her voice shook slightly, fear and anxiety knotting deep in her belly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice took on a strange tone but his face remained cold, calculating.

"How could I? I have spent years trying to pretend that it wasn't real, that they aren't my parents. I just want to forget them. Forget who I was." Her throat felt tight and her eyes burned, how could she even begin to explain herself?

"Forget? Why would you want to forget who you are? Merlin Cassiopeia, even those terrible experiences shape who you are as a person now. And I happen to be rather fond of the person that you are. You must know I don't give a hippogriffs arse where you come from or who you came from. I can see past all that rubbish. I love you and you avoiding me has made me miserable this past week. I am worried for you, I want to help you, and instead you freeze me out.

Of course I wish you had told me sooner, that you felt comfortable enough in our relationship to share your true past with me. I hate being lied to, and I hate being caught by surprise. But that doesn't detract from my worry about you," His eyes darkened as he recalled the shock at the very public announcement that his girlfriend was someone completely different than he had thought.

"And yes, I was a little angry at you for lying, but I know you will make it up to me, and I know our relationship is strong enough to get past this unfortunate omission." He took a few steps closer to her, his fingers toying with her hip, "that is if you'll still have me."

Of course, she knew Glynn had been hurt by her lie, and she knew it must have been unbearable for him the past week since the public revelation of her true parentage. She had been so caught up in her own emotions; she forgot to take others into account, again. Relief thrummed through her system, mixing with the aftershocks of anxiety unpleasantly, Glynn still loved her. She sighed deeply, burying herself in his arms, allowing his presence to envelope her entirely in an all-encompassing embrace. At least she still had Glynn. She was going to be fine so long as she still had him.

"Of course, if you'll still have me."

Xxx

Term passed with Cassiopeia remaining a pariah at the school. Nobody except for Glynn and occasionally Daniel Jones would speak to her, or even acknowledge her unless it was to insult her. Cassiopeia kept her head down, refusing to retaliate; she took her abuse and accepted it as part of her new life in the open. Her professors still called her Miss Tonks, must to the resentment of the fellow students, who were very vocal in her classes of their objections. Cassiopeia just took deep breaths when she felt her patience wane, recalling Professor Snape's warning of expulsion.

She had mixed feelings about the upcoming summer holiday. On the one hand she was ecstatic to be leaving the school, but she was dreading to returning to the Tonks household. She wasn't sure what response she would get from Andromeda and Ted after she wrote a letter home, under the supervision of Professor Snape, explaining the fight she had with their daughter. She wondered if they would send her a howler, loudly stating their intent to disown her, she imagined a long letter explaining how they had made a mistake adopting her, and how they were going to send her back to the muggles.

The response she received set her teeth on edge more than any of her imagined scenarios. It was a short missive, written in Andromeda's neat handwriting, stating that they would be having a family discussion over the break. That was it, no angry words, or details of their inevitable disappointment, just a simple, single sentence.

So as the break approached the greater the fear she felt at going back to the Tonks household. Glynn tried to console her, suggesting that they must see her side in things. Merlin how she loved that boy, he offered her a bit of an out if it all went wrong with the Tonks. He had already spoken to his parents and they had agreed to let her stay with them over the holidays, if she so wished. She also wrote a brief letter to her Aunt Narcissa, outlining the bare bones of her situation, and they too offered her a place to stay if she needed. She had support, though the support did little to comfort her.

Cassiopeia spent the ride back to London curled up next to Glynn, her headphones firmly in place as he read a book. They had a compartment all to themselves, Glynn forgoing the company of his friends for her. They didn't speak, there was nothing to say, Cassiopeia knew Glynn had her back if she needed it; all she had to do was ask.

The Tonks gave no outward indication at the station when they picked the girls up about how the holiday was going to go. Glynn had insisted on walking her over to the waiting Tonks, mainly so he could throw a venomous look at Nymphadora, and give a polite nod to her guardians.

"If you need anything." He whispered in her ear, after an unusually long goodbye embrace, each reluctant to be away from each other. She gave him a final kiss, uncaring that she was in full view of her guardians, she figured on the scale of things to be angry about; kissing her boyfriend was a low priority.

The drive back to the house was conducted in an uncomfortable silence, neither girl willing to acknowledge the others existence, with Andromeda and Ted riding in silence in the front, awful pop music from the radio was the only sound in the car.

They walked into the house, silence still reigning, with both girls eager to storm to their respective rooms. Just when Cassiopeia was going to make a break for it, Andromeda cut them off.

"Living room. Now." Her voice was low and for the first time she turned fiery eyes to the two girls in front of her. Squirming under her gaze, both girls followed her directions, with a meek looking Ted following.

The girls sat on opposite sides of the room from each other. Each girl claimed a couch for herself, trying to put as much distance as physically possible between them.

"Explain. You first Nymphadora." Andromeda's voice was cold and her gaze was sharp. Dora started immediately proclaiming how everything was Cassiopeia's fault, trying to shift as much blame as possible to the other girl. Andromeda's voice cut over her daughters as she silenced her.

"Nymphadora Tonks. I am going to say this once, so I hope you are listening very closely. I have no interest in whose fault this fight was. I want to know what happened, from your point of view. I want only the facts, and if you start using hyperbole I swear on merlin that I will cancel Christmas and ground you until the end of your Hogwarts career. The same goes for you Cassiopeia."

Both girls gulped. Thoroughly cowed by the cold rage in Andromeda, Nymphadora tried her best to lay out the events that led to her broken nose, trying to refrain from putting in her own commentary and interpretations atop of the story. She was only mildly successful.

"And so I let everyone know just what type of witch 'she' is, and how she was no sister of mine. I told everyone just what she was." Nymphadora ended, glaring darkly at Cassiopeia who met her stare without flinching.

Andromeda nodded, accepting Nymphadora's side of the story before turning to Cassiopeia. "Your turn, explain."

And so Cassiopeia tried to outline the circumstances of her involvement. Saying how she initially stepped in to protect her boyfriend from being attacked. And that regardless of the circumstances she was going to stand and help him, as she loved him.

The Tonks both twitched when she proclaimed her love for the Ravenclaw boy but neither interrupted her. She then went on to say how Dora had inserted herself into a fight that had nothing to do with her, publically humiliated her, and shouted her darkest, most dear secret to the school, effectively ruining her school career and life. Cassiopeia explained how since the incident nobody wanted to talk to her, that she was the subject of many cruel pranks, and had a target on her back. And there was nothing she could do about it because Professor Snape had threatened her with expulsion, She wouldn't quite apologise for breaking Nymphadora's nose, but she did emphasize how desperate she was in the moment, about how angry she was that others would find out, how it was her biggest fear in life, and one that Nymphadora made come true.

Andromeda listened to both girls, her face stony. "Nymphadora, how dare you reveal something so personal and damaging about Cassiopeia." She finally said quietly, her voice cold.

"What? You can't be seriously taking her side in this." Cassiopeia felt smug at the look of outrage that erupted from Nymphadora.

"And you," Andromeda spun on Cassiopeia whose smile dropped off her face, the glow of triumph fading as quickly as it had come. "You, no matter what the situation it, physical violence is never the answer. It frankly both shocks and terrifies me just how easily you turned from trying to diplomatically calm things down to fighting."

"I had things handled until she decided to stick her big nose into it." Cassiopeia groused, glaring at the other girl.

"How could I not, you were about to beat up Charlie, the poor boy isn't a fighter and you were going to take advantage of that. I reckon you just get off jinxing people into the next century, especially easy targets. It must run in your blood." Dora's face was a flaming red in anger, her hair growing short and her eyes shifting between colours as she lost some of her control.

Cassiopeia flushed and a cold bolt of anger shot through her body, she clenched her teeth and tried to breath through the flashes of red as she processed Nymphadora's words, preparing an angry retort. Ted however beat her to it.

"Nymphadora." Ted said harshly, finally losing his temper, his eyes steely and his voice hard. The rooms occupants stilled, unused to seeing Ted angry, such a rare occurrence it was.

"You seem to be labouring an incorrect assumption that you know everything about the Lestranges. You know nothing and it is the height of cruelty to use her childhood against her as a weapon. I thought I had raised you better than that, but I must've gone wrong somewhere. Cassiopeia is your family, and here to stay, and her past is her own business, it is not something you will ever bring up again in mine or anyone's company ever again." Ted leaned forward in his seat, looking his daughter in the eye, his face very serious as he spoke.

"Oh come off it dad, we all know that you only took her in because mom made you. And you even gave her your name, something she is dragging through the mud. Probably because she no longer lives the charmed life she had, a rich pureblood in society like the Malfoys, now she has to slum it with the burned half bloods." Nymphadora sneered, refusing to be intimidated by her normally timid father.

"You think my family was like the Malfoys?" Cassiopeia was incredulous, if only she had been so lucky.

Dora turned a disdainful eye to the girl, "Sure, aren't all rich pure-blooded families the same?"

Cassiopeia laughed darkly, her face twisting into a hideous snarl, "you are an even thicker than I suspected. Do you know anything about Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange?"

"They were death eaters, what more do I need to know." Dora retorted, a kernel of uncertainty taking route at the girls transformation. She had never seen anyone look so fearsome as Cassiopeia did in that instant.

"They didn't just kill people you idiot. They tortured people; they took pleasure in other peoples pain, including mine. Once my father poisoned me because he was bored. I accidently spoke to a girl once, your age probably, just to apologise for knocking into her. My mother punished me for talking to a mudblood with the Cruciatus curse, a spell I am intimately familiar with. She then murdered the girl's whole family, and recounted it to me in great detail. Want me to tell you how she did it? I can explain it to you if you like, every curse, every scream, every grisly element of that one attack. Mother was very descriptive. Or perhaps you would like me to describe the intricacies of the unforgivables; I have experience with all of them in form or another. "

Cassiopeia was shaking, she felt nauseous, lightheaded, and slightly hysterical. She was also angry at the hot tears running down her face, she was being weak, and it was despicable. She couldn't remember a time in her life where she had been more enraged, more disgusted with a person than she was with her adopted sister. She wanted to punch her again, to tear her hair out and to scream at her. She wanted to hold her down and yell every terrible thing she knew, she wanted the girl to feel just a fraction of the pain and horror she felt whenever her thoughts lingered too long on her childhood. She wanted the girl to experience the nightmares, to be haunted and sickened, unable to block out all the bloody information.

"Enough Cassiopeia." It was Ted, he was pale but his voice was still hard, his eyes flinty.

"And for the record Dora, it was my decision to bring Cassiopeia into the family, not your mothers. And it was my idea to formally invite her to become a Tonks. And I have not experienced a single regret over it." Ted said stiffly, examining his daughter closely to see if she understood his words.

Dora had the ghost of defiance in her face, but she was pale and her eyes shone with uncertainty as she processed what the younger girl was telling her, torn between believing her or holding onto her anger.

"I think that's enough for tonight." Andromeda said softly, looking between both girls, "but this isn't over. Cassiopeia we need to have a long conversation about your behavioural issues, and Nymphadora we need to address your anger and your penchant to gossiping."

Cassiopeia stormed out of the room, slammed the door shut to her bedroom, threw herself on her bed, buried under the covers, and slammed her headphones on, turning the music up as high as possible in an attempt to block out the memories, the sickening details that were coming to the forefront of her mind after her outburst. She cried for hours that night until she fell into a fitful sleep, forgoing her usual potions. She slept fitfully, caught in the throes of one of the worst nightmares she had experienced in years, recalling the muggle born girl who lost her life because she had the unfortunate luck of meeting Cassiopeia.

She lasted about a week in the Tonks household. She pretended Nymphadora didn't exist whenever she was caught in the same room as her and her adopted sister acted in kind. There were a few more conversations about her behaviour with both Ted and Andromeda, something Cassiopeia suffered through sullenly, only getting angry when they began questioning her relationship with Glynn. They were worried he was a bad influence on her, as it was him who picked the fight with Charlie, not Cassiopeia, though she had certainly finished it. Even if they factored in any embellishing from their daughter, it seemed most of the trouble Cassiopeia found herself in at school was connected to Glynn in some way.

Questioning her relationship was her breaking point, she explained to the Tonks' that being in the same house as Nymphadora was bringing up painful feelings, and that she needed some space to cool down. They agreed reluctantly, giving her a leave to spend a few days with her aunt Narcissa.

Narcissa was pleased to have her stay for such a long period of time, and it happened to coincide with a small summer party they were throwing to celebrate the solstice. So Cassiopeia threw herself into party preparations with her aunt, trying to lose herself in the work and trying to desperately find an interest in colour coordinating napkins to place settings. In the end she wasn't much help to Narcissa, but she appreciated the company all the same.

The Malfoys included Glynn on the guest list at her request, and as the party approached so did her excitement at seeing her boyfriend again. A fortnight hadn't passed yet since the last time they saw each other, and yet the time apart felt like ages to Cassiopeia, who was exhausted from the fighting with the Tonks still. As the day approached so too did her excitement grow, the morning of she was practically leaping with excitement, happily throwing on a particularly flattering pair of robes Narcissa had given her, and even letting the older witch attempt to do something with her hair.

The party was a small event as far as Malfoy parties went, attended by those who were higher up in the ministry and a few wealthy families. Cassiopeia and Glynn were some of the only underage wizards present at the party, and instead of making polite conversation with the other guests they opted to sneak away for a snogging session in the Manor.

When they returned Glyn was promptly swept away by Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa who wanted to introduce the girl around to all the other women snatched Cassiopeia. Though they were polite and said nothing outright, Cassiopeia knew that her secret had spread far beyond Hogwarts when she saw the women's reaction to her name. The Tonks adoption of the daughter of a death eater was common news it seemed, and causing a minor scandal in the ministry. Of course, the Malfoy guests were at least polite enough to mask their morbid intrigue at meeting a girl born from such infamous parents.

The party passed in a blur, Cassiopeia longing to spend more time with Glynn, but whenever she went to search him out she was either side-tracked or he was busy chatting with official looking wizards from the ministry. She passed the time away from her boyfriend by conversing with her young cousin Draco, who was nine now, and very grown up. He had a million questions about Hogwarts, about different spells that she was learning, and about the Slytherin house. She found his curiosity delightful and his company an adequate distraction from the things that were going wrong in her life thus far. She was disappointed when the party bean to slow down, with guests excusing themselves long before the sun set. She was outright shocked and more than a little hurt when Glynn made his excuses, leaving the party rather hastily, giving her a long kiss goodbye before returning home without wishing the Malfoys a goodbye.

His strange behaviour was explained the next morning when Lucius Malfoy sat down for breakfast, unusually serious with a calculating glint in his eye.

"So tell me, how long have you and that Gambol boy been dating?" There was no good morning, or even a hello. It was a very abrupt start to a conversation that Cassiopeia feared she would need more coffee for. Narcissa gave her a careful sideways look but if she found her husbands behaviour strange or rude she refrained from commenting.

"Er…" she took a hasty sip of her coffee, trying to figure it out exactly, "maybe 18 months." She said cautiously.

Lucius nodded, carefully cutting his eggs, "And you are happy? He treats you well? With respect?" his words were dry, but he was studying her.

Cassiopeia was beyond confused now, the Malfoys had showed Glynn interest in the past as someone she was interested in, but they had never asked about their actual relationship before.

"I guess. I mean, I love him." She said quietly, wondering why her appetite was suddenly disappearing.

Lucius hummed as he chewed his eggs thoughtfully, "has he ever mentioned any aspirations for his post Hogwarts career? He is going into his final year correct?" Cassiopeia didn't like the way Lucius was asking the questions. Innocent enough as they were, there was something off about his attitude, he was watching her too closely and it was making her fidget in her chair.

She glanced at her aunt Narcissa to see how she was reacting to her husband's line of questioning. Her aunt was no help however; the woman had finished eating and was calmly drinking her tea, her eyes also watching Cassiopeia closely.

"Actually he hasn't mentioned anything specific, just some vague things about perhaps going into the ministry, in a position with some chance of advancement." She scratched the back of her neck, letting her hair fall in front of her face as she looked down at her plate of food which was rapidly cooling.

"And what about you dear? Have you thought about what you would like to do after Hogwarts?" Narcissa jumped into the conversation now, her voice warm in contrast to the calculating glint in her eyes. Cassiopeia had spent enough time with her aunt to recognise that look. Narcissa had her society face on, she was digging for something, something she didn't want to come outright and say.

Cassiopeia briefly toyed with the idea of calling them out on their game, demanding to know why they had a sudden interest in her relationship, but instead she swallowed her frustration. She would play their game, for a bit at least.

"I was thinking- well Professor Snape reckons I should become a curse breaker, and Professor Flitwick thinks I should do something with theoretical or experimental charms work."

Narcissa gave the girl a small smile, a little more genuine this time. "That's a splendid idea dear, a very interesting subject that would certainly take you to some very interesting places, though a bit dangerous, and much too adventurous for me. Have you discussed these plans with Glynn?"

"I've mentioned my interest a few times, but I mean there is still so much time between now and graduation… I haven't even taken my O.W.L.S. yet" Cassiopeia trailed off.

"It is a few years off for you yet," Lucius acquiesced, his eyes sharpening further, "But for Gambol, the decision is just around the corner. He approached me yesterday asking for assistance in gaining an internship, did he tell you?" Lucius voice was soft, he watched her very closely.

Cassiopeia fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling her face warm a little. He certainly did not tell her that he was going to ask a favour from her uncle, she bristled at the thought. She didn't want to owe them anymore than she already did, and she certainly didn't want Glynn owing them anything. Though she was nice with them now, she did still remember just what sort of man her Uncle Lucius was.

"He ah, might have neglected to mention it." She said, chewing her lip.

"Oh yes, he seems to have many big ideas for the future, your future included. I simply wondered if you had any input in his opinions." Lucius's vice was turning cold and she could see the sneer form on his face. Her stomach flipped, whatever he had said to her uncle clearly did not go over well. She thought back to the previous day, his hasty departure and wondered just what had gone wrong.

"He seems to be under the impression that you will be with him for all of the foreseeable future. A housewife to cook and clean for him while he works. He also dared to use you as a bargaining chip to gain a rather prestigious entry position at the ministry upon his graduation." Lucius's voice was dangerously soft, a vicious look blooming on his face.

"Naturally I told him just how little I thought threats against my family. I daresay he was rather hasty in his retreat." He smirked now, but the dangerous glint was still there, hiding in the shadows of his features.

Cassiopeia took another sip of her drink, noting it was lukewarm now and tried to think of a response to them. It was obvious Lucius did not take Glynn's plea for aid very well, and that their attitudes were changing rather quickly in respect to the boy. She also wondered just how true Lucius Malfoys accusations were; she and Glynn had never discussed anything beyond Hogwarts, certainly not marriage! She was only fifteen; she wasn't ready for any of that.

"I can see from your poor attempt to hide your reactions that Gambol has not discussed this with you. I am going to be very frank with you Cassiopeia and you'd do well to heed my words and listen closely. Not very long ago there was a way of things within pureblood families, where such longer-term relationships were negotiated amongst the elders of a family to find the best pairings for young ones whilst still maintaining blood purity. These matches often took little to no emotional attachments or feelings into account and instead were often seen as political or business decisions. Your own parents were a product of this type of match, with Rudolphus gaining a wife, something he needed to be included in society, and with Bellatrix gaining husband who gave her a certain amount of freedom and independence. They did their pureblood duty as it was seen in those times by having you.

Things have changed since then, as most of us who were forced through this type of arrangement have wished to see it end with our generation. Of course we encourage you to see other suitable witches and wizards, of good heritage and stock, but we frown on those who wish to continue the business transaction or arranged elements of our world."

"What my husband is trying to say, very poorly I might add dear, is that we are worried about you. We don't want you to feel pressured into a life with this Gambol character, and we do not take well to his assumptions and gall to use you to gain leverage over us and our connections." Narcissa said, leaning over to grab her hand

He is the type of wizard who wants to live in the old ways, and his family has been long known to be very traditional. We do not want to see you in that situation or with that type of suitor if that is not what you wish. It is our opinion that you would do well to seriously reconsider your relationship and feelings about him. Gambol women become little more than trophies, or accessories to decorate ones house with. Its not right, certainly not for you." The woman continued.

Cassiopeia snatched her hand back from Mrs Malfoy, her mind racing with their words. They were wrong of course, Glynn loved her and treated her as his equal, he wouldn't do something like using her as a gambling chip. And yet, the Malfoys seemed rather adamant.

She shook her head once more, glaring at the family around her, her appetite suddenly gone.

"I—thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will deal with it in the coming days, But I think I should probably return home today, I am rather missing my own bed."

"But I thought you were staying the week!" Narcissa exclaimed, "It's only been three nights." She pouted, watching the girl carefully.

"Don't you want to stay so you can ask some questions about what we just discussed?" Lucius asked, his voice still soft, his fingers curling around his eating utensils.

"No thank you, I think we understand each other quite well." She said stiffly, placing her utensils down delicately and wiping her mouth. Both the Malfoys were watching her closely, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Cassiopeia, I know we have never been very close as it were, but you are family and as such we, I, care about your future and your well being. If this Gambol boy is pressuring you…"

"He isn't pressuring me at all." Cassiopeia snapped, interrupted her uncle Lucius. He sat back in his chair, his lips pursed. "The boy that you and the Tonks so readily vilify exists only in your heads. Glynn is a kind and loving boyfriend, who always has my best interests at heart. Something I am beginning to doubt anyone else has."

"So the Tonks also have questioned him." Narcissa was sharp to pick up on the wrong point of the sentence.

"They hold the opinion that he is a bad influence on me." She mumbled, "But I don't see how. Since we've started dating my marks have gone up significantly. I am almost the top of my class, and I am the best at charms, transfiguration, and defence against the dark arts. And with Professor Quirrell taking a sabbatical this year, ive got more time to focus on subjects I need for my O.W.L.S. this year."

"And if I ask Professor Snape about your progress he would agree?" Lucius's eyes were glittering dangerously as he stared down his niece.

Cassiopeia's face flushed, "Professor Snape has never liked me nor Glynn. He's been positively rotten to Glynn, and he has an issue with anyone who tried to foster any inter-house relationships. He is obviously going to be biased against anything I do."

She stood up abruptly, "Now if you really are done with your pointless interrogation. I think I should take my leave." She stormed out of the dining room to gather her things, fuming.

The Malfoys watched her go silently, Narcissa with concern in her eyes and Lucius with a cold, calculating glint.

Xxx

Cassiopeia did not go back to the Tonks household as she led the Malfoys to believe. The Tonks knew she was going to be gone for the better part of the week, and she didn't want to go back to the stifling environment of their household. So she went to the one other place that she felt welcome.

She went to the Gambol household.

Glynn was overjoyed that she had chosen to stay with them for a few days, immediately opening up his bedroom to her.

Cassiopeia had shared beds with people before, mainly when she had been in various group homes when she was younger, but she had never shared a bed with a boy she was involved with before. She had also never been in a place with so much freedom before. The Gambols were completely unfazed by the fact that the couple were sharing a bed, and seemed completely comfortable with the many open affections Glynn rained on her. They left the kids to their own devices, with Mr Gambol spending most of his day at work and Mrs Gambol cleaning the house.

Mrs Gambol didn't speak much, but she seemed to always be cleaning or cooking or doing something around the house. She kept busy and out of the way, only giving Cassiopeia fleeting smiles when their paths crossed.

Though Cassiopeia spent very little time out of Glynn's room. The couple spent the first day mostly catching up, and reading books when they ran dry on conversation. Glynn vehemently denied everything Mr Malfoy had said about him, claiming he had asked for some advice and that was all. Cassiopeia wasn't sure what to believe but she kept her doubts to herself. She was staying with him and didn't particularly want to fight nor make him angry.

He kept his hands mostly to himself the first night, the couple cuddling but not much more. She had blushed deep crimson when she found that the boy slept in his briefs and nothing else, but not really having any other sleeping option let it pass.

The second night Glynn was a little more insistent, kissing her neck and rubbing against her suggestively, his hands wandering under her nightclothes.

The third night she submitted to him fully, Glynn had tried to be gentle, but as always he got a little carried away. It was nothing Cassiopeia couldn't handle however, and the pain had been worth it to make Glynn happy. And it wasn't all so bad, she enjoyed certain parts of the act, it was something she thought she could learn to get used to.

Finally it came to depart the Gambol household, back to the Tonks. She kissed her boyfriend eagerly that night, promising she would come back soon. All she had to do was tell the Tonks that she was staying with the Malfoys, and since the families were forbidden from talking to each other it was a rather easy ruse.

So she spent more and more time at the Gambol house, cozied up to her boyfriend in his room. Cassiopeia confided in him her fears about the upcoming school year, about everyone knowing who she really was. She told him how happy she was that he looked past her past, that he could see the other side of her and move on.

He hugged her to him, kissing the top of her head. "I guess it all makes sense now, a lot of things about you. How different you are from Nymphadora, why you are so good at duelling and have an interest in curses. It runs in your blood, your parents were fearsome duellists. I've done some reading and did you know it took nine aurors to take them in?"

Cassiopeia was uncomfortable when he spouted facts about her parents to her; she was uncomfortable with the amount of reading and research he seemed to have done. He was generally quite respectful with his questions, but sometimes he seemed to get carried away. She found his fascination a little disquieting.

"Don't worry, I still want to be with you, despite your heritage." He would always say, a sentiment she found a little discomforting. Despite her heritage? Like she was somehow less of a person because of her blood, but then, wasn't that just it? She was tainted, everything she did would always fall under the shadow of them.

During one such visit Glynn was particularly distant, he was quiet, lost in thought. Cassiopeia knew he was thinking about something deeply, something important as she had only seen him like that a few times. Her stomach curled unpleasantly as she tried to remain positive about his mood, the last time he had been like this he had discovered her interest in curses, and he had told her some of his darker interests. Her instincts were spot on when he started talking.

"Do you remember, when I mentioned my interest in the imperius curse?" his voice was quiet and she had to strain to hear him.

She nodded uncertainly, looking up from her reading. Glynn was lying on his bed, the book she had gotten him for his birthday open on his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling.

"You said you had some knowledge of it, from during the war." He started. The nausea doubled and she felt her heart pounding in her ears.

"I was just thinking, well, do you trust me Cassiopeia?" he was looking at her now, his face serious, and his gaze intense.

"Of course." She answered automatically, her insides clenching, and a small cold sweat breaking out across her forehead. She did not like where this conversation was headed.

"When you started making cursed objects you said you learned more than you ever could have just from reading," he continued, staring at her carefully. She was finding it hard to breathe.

"I—well I am of age now you know, the trace is no longer effective. And, with your permission, I think I would like to see how this spell works. For purely academic reasons of course, I want to understand the effects, so I can recognise the signs if I ever see it in other people. We live in a crazy world, with darkness lurking just below the surface, I want to be prepared."

Her breathing hitched as she understood the request.

"How would casting the curse help you understand the symptoms?"

She thought it was a reasonable question, but Glynn seemed to think otherwise. His face darkened and a sneer started to form on his face, "because reading about it isn't the same as seeing it first hand." He snapped, his voice dripping in condescension.

Cassiopeia swallowed thickly, trying to find another meaning in his words, hoping he wasn't asking what she thought he was.

"I need to experience it to understand. And I need your help. Are you going to be selfish about this? I helped you with your curses, and never questioned anything you've ever done, despite it being highly questionable. Are you really going to be a little bint about this? Don't you trust me? Don't you love me?"

Cassiopeia was taken aback, feeling as though he had slapped her across the face. He might as well have given the effect of his words. Of course she loved him, and she definitely trusted him, so she swallowed her reservations and steeled herself. Of all the unforgivables, the imperius curse was potentially the least damaging of them, with little risk of long term consequences. Other than a lifetime in prison for casting it that was. And of course the cases where it broke the mind of the witch or wizard under the curse is done improperly.

But she didn't really have a choice did she? Glynn had helped her with her cursed object, so with a small nod, she acquiesced, "Of course." She licked her lips and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

She suspected she had been under this curse once, years ago in the Lestrange Manor, whilst she was sneaking around looking for food. But that had been cast by one of the most powerful wizards alive. So masterful was it that she had no idea that she was actually under a curse, and she certainly didn't remember the exact moment she fell under it.

Glynn grinned, leaned forward to give her a quick kiss, before reaching over to grab his wand off the table.

"You want to do it now?" she squeaked with alarm. She had hoped he would at least wait a little bit; maybe do a little more research.

"Of course now! No time like the present." He said, his eyes brimming with excitement, his gaze heated.

"But your mom…" she trailed off, trying to desperately come up with a valid reason as to why he couldn't possibly cast it now.

He waved off her concern, "mother knows better than to interfere, and she certainly won't tell the ministry anything, father makes sure of that." Something about the way he said it sent chills down her spine. Her nausea returned in full force, her felt cold and hot at the same time, and her heart was in her throat.

"Besides, you've already been under this curse. You know what to expect." He continued, seemingly oblivious to her anxiety.

"Yes, but Glynn, you don't understand. I am not sure it was actually the imperius or something else. It was all so long ago, and it happened so quickly." Her voice was low, filled with every bit of anxiety she was feeling.

"You'll be fine, I've read this book forwards and backwards, I think I understand," and without warning, he pointed his wand directly between her eyes and murmured " _imperio"_

Cassiopeia didn't have time to flinch or to take any evasive action so quick was he to the draw.

She felt light and her anxiety melted away. It was a rather pleasant sensation, and she forgot why she had been so angry with the boy.

 _Stand up_ a voice whispered in her ear.

Well that seemed like a great idea, she stood up abruptly, happy with her decision.

 _Walk over to me_ , the voice whispered again.

Odd, but why not? She walked over to the boy she distantly remembered was her boyfriend.

 _Kiss me_

Well he was rather good looking, with big beautiful eyes. She leaned forward and gave him a quick chaste kiss.

 _Like you mean it. Kiss me like you mean it._

She leaned forward and gave him a deeper kiss.

 _Run your fingers through my hair_

She obliged, grasping his head and pulling him closer.

 _Need me more than you need air._

She crawled on top of him, attacking him with her lips, pulling at his skin with her lips, sucking and biting with abandon. She stopped breathing.

Glynn's arms wrapped around her, pulling their bodies even closer, closing his eyes as the power of the curse and her want washed over him, it was intoxicating. His hands went under her shirt, his fingers digging into her skin painfully.

Cassiopeia never stopped in her ministrations, but the pain broke through her haze a little. She frowned as she felt the sharp pain as his fingernails break her flesh.

The delightful sensation was beginning to dim as her chest started to burn and her head started to pound. She didn't like this anymore, and yet she couldn't stop.

She hissed, or at least tried to, when the sharp pinpricks dragged down her back as Glynn pulled her even tighter against him, but she found she had no breath to release, her chest felt so empty, it was on fire. She could feel her heart beating in her ears, and she began to jerk, trying desperately to pull in some type of air.

But she couldn't stop kissing him, she needed him so much, it seemed far more important to continue what she was doing than it was to listen to her lungs.

Her vision began to darken and tears started to leak out of her eyes. The pain became all encompassing and her movements began to slow, she felt sluggish.

This was wrong, she thought desperately. She tried to remember why she was doing this, but she couldn't stop. She focussed on the pain, on her body screaming demands, tried to breathe but she couldn't unlatch her lips from the boys skin.

She slumped forward against him, her head swimming and her lungs burning, crying as she used the last of her energy to keep kissing him.

"Cassiopeia." Glynn groaned, "don't stop." He commanded.

She tried to continue her assault on him but her body wasn't working.

"Cassiopeia." He moaned in frustration, "I said—Merlin you're turning blue." The boy pushed her off him, she tried to resist, she tried to stay latched to him, but she was so weak. Her eyes fluttered, everything was getting blurry.

"Bloody—breathe Cassiopeia, breathe!" Glynn cursed as he tried to break the curse, finally with a hasty "finite incantem" he managed to undo it.

Cassiopeia gasped for breath, greedily sucking in the air. She clutched Glynn's shoulder out of reflex, looking for anything to steady her shaking body. She closed her eyes to block out the pain of the pounding in her head, and she coughed violently, her lungs sore from their lack of use. She tried to process all the feelings that were flooding back, no longer dulled from the curse. Along with the pain of not taking in air, she felt the stings on her body where Glynn had gotten carried away, she could feel the bruises already starting to form on her arms and her waist, no doubt following the pattern of his finger prints. She cried when she remembered his commands and tried to push him away, but found she had very little strength in her oxygen starved body.

"Cassiopeia! Are you Ok?" the boy asked, his voice panicked as his hands roved over her, trying to reassure himself that she was actually breathing.

She gasped, crying out in frustration and anger as she tried to slap his hands away. She needed space from him, she felt tainted, her blood thrummed in her body and a terrified anxiety overtook her senses. She needed to get away from him, she wanted to run, go somewhere far away. She wanted to take a boiling hot shower, she wanted to burn her the taint off, to scrub away all of her the impurities she felt. More than anything she wanted to hurt Glynn, she wanted to end him.

With a strangled cry she finally found the strength to crawl out from underneath him, and with a resounding crack she slapped him with all of her remaining strength across the face. It was not as strong of a slap as she would have hoped for, but it was enough to stun the boy into silence and stillness. Taking the opportunity she grabbed her wand off the bedside table and ran for his bedroom door, tears blurring her vision and sobs wracking her body.

She ran down the stairs, intending to get to the fireplace so she could floo away, she wanted to be anywhere but in that house when she was stopped cold by the sight of Mrs Gambol, her long sleeves, normally so fastidiously kept firmly against her wrist, were rolled up as she had her hands stuck into a large pile of dishes in the sink.

Mrs Gambol looked up with a start, her face pale and alarmed as she took in the sobbing form of girl in front of her. Mrs Gambol made no move to comfort her, or even say anything, she just stared, her eyes wide and afraid, glancing between her and the stairs, where they both could hear Glynn cursing her name. He was angry, angrier than she had ever heard him.

"Cassiopeia!" he roared, a loud thump echoing across the house. "Get back here now! How dare you hit me!" he threw something else, the clinking of breaking glass accompanying this thump.

Cassiopeia's heart was racing and her head was still pounding, and yet she couldn't move. She stared at Mrs Gambol, at her arms in particular. The pale skin was mottled in black and blue bruises, all in the shape of various hand prints. Now that she looked, she would see the very tips of bruises peaking out from under her collar. Her hands were shaking and she seemed genuinely terrified of the tantrum her son was throwing.

Cassiopeia felt sick and she was disgusted both by the sight in front of her and with herself. Why hadn't she seen it sooner? She swallowed thickly, still staring at the bruises, she felt the same type of bruises forming on her skin, she felt the sting of the cut on her back and side from where Glynn had gotten carried away.

"Cassiopeia Lestrange!" Glynn roared from the top of the stairs, his eyes ablaze with fury. "You will come back here now. You are over reacting and if you would let me explain…"

Anger surged through her as she stared at the boy. How dare he, she thought bitterly, how dare he use her name like that.

"No." her voice was hoarse, shaking in her anger. "Sod off you prick."

She turned, trying to make it to the fireplace; she started to run as she heard Glynn give chase.

She made it just in time, grabbing a handful of the powder, far more than was necessary and jumped into the roaring flames. Glynn was so close, his hand reaching into the fire to grab her, his face transformed with rage and terror, the last thing she heard was his voice echoing off walls of his house, "You bitch!"

She didn't know why she chose her destination; it had been the first thing on her mind. She didn't want to go home, to face the ghost of her mothers face, not when she was so unhinged, not when her normally so carefully controlled feelings were running wild. She didn't think she could handle the concern and love on a face that was so very much like her mothers. It was cruel illusion that she thought would unravel what little thread connected her to sanity.

So with an explosion of flames she was spit out of the Malfoys fire place, she collapsed, sobbing and curling into a little ball. Narcissa's face shining in concern and alarm was the last thing she saw before she finally gave into the pounding in her head and the encroaching darkness.

Xxx

She woke up in a soft bed with someone running their fingers through her hair. She felt heavy, stiff, and exhausted. Even opening her eyes took a larger effort than she ever could've realised.

What had happened, where was she? She tried to remember what she was doing before her impromptu nap. The memories came flooding back, adrenaline raced through her system as she tried to sit upright, looking around for threats, her hand already reaching for her wand, ready to fight if need be.

It wasn't Glynn's face that greeted her but instead that of her Aunt Narcissa. Her eyes were soft and a small frown graced her face, her brow wrinkled in concern.

Cassiopeia relaxed slightly, letting the panic pass into a tired sort of sadness. She sniffed loudly, her chest shivering with the beginning of sobs. She felt dirty and ashamed as she remembered what had happened with Glynn. She had been so powerless against his curse, he had said to trust him, and when she did, he used that trust to use her like an object. He had lied, and she wondered what else he had lied about.

Narcissa shushed the girl, gently pushing her back into the pillows, apparently unconcerned as Cassiopeia burst into tears, curling into a ball in the bed, wincing in pain as her body protested.

Narcissa didn't leave her side as Cassiopeia cried herself into a fitful sleep, exhaustion finally winning over her grief.

The next time she woke Narcissa was gone, and in her place was a small plate of food. She sat up, feeling less sore, and gratefully tucked into the dinner. After eating she took a much needed bath, the water was so hot it scalded her skin, her lip trembled as she felt the water sear the cuts Glynn had left on her skin. She scrubbed her body viciously, taking her anger out with the sponge until her pale skin was bright red and angry. After that she just sat in the too hot water, staring off into space, lost in thought.

She had left all of her stuff at Glynn's house, only thinking to grab her wand. She wondered if she would ever see any of it again. She went over her relationship with him, trying to find out when she had become so foolish, so blind to everything that he was doing to her. She felt numb, mentally cataloguing every word, every abuse she had suffered, and every justification she gave.

Was any of it real? She had thought that Glynn was the only person to love her for whom she was. He didn't know her past or her baggage; he had judged her based on her. He felt no pity towards her, no obligation like everyone else in her life. And yet he had used her, manipulated her, turned her into a weapon.

She submerged herself completely in the bath, numb to the unbearable heat, and held her breath. She hated him, she wanted to hurt him the way he hurt her, and yet some small part of her loved him.

She felt the water go up her nose, it dulled the sound to her ears and burned her skin. She focused on these sensations, used it to centre herself. Her parents had used her as well, her mother turned her into a weapon and her father used her to curry favour with the Dark Lord. Did she intentionally seek out such relationships she wondered? Did she deserve it?

She blew the air out of her nose and surfaced, taking cool gulps of air.

She had almost died. Distantly she understood this, and it didn't bother her as much as she thought it would have. He had made her want him more than air; she shivered at the memory, at the sensation, feeling slightly nauseous at the thought. She wondered what would have happened if she died. Would people be upset, or would they be relieved?

The Malfoys could move on from their guilt over not helping her as a child. The Tonks would be relieved of their burden of care for her. Her head of house would have his evenings back, he wouldn't have to watch her so closely, or administer detentions if she were dead. The Weasleys might be sad, or they might consider it justice for her attacking their son.

And how stupid that had been, how easily she had been turned against the one person who stopped to help her at her lowest point. Dora was right, she was a despicable person, she closed her eyes tight, a few tears falling as she ached deeply. It had been a few days since she last took any of her potions, and she felt the unsettling energy thrumming under her skin as the withdrawals started to set in.

Glynn had always tried to make his potion supply seem like something he was doing out of love, but now she saw it for what it truly was. He was using it to control her. She always feared angering him because it meant he would take away her only supply. He always held it over her, always brought up whenever they argued; making it out to be a great service he did for her.

She went under the water again, relishing the burn. She had a few doses squirreled away in her room at the Tonks household, half filled vials that she had saved when she was trying to cut her dosages over the breaks. She was relieved she had the foresight to not throw away the unneeded potion, wondering grimly if some part of her knew then, what he was doing.

Anger simmered under her skin, of course everyone else knew, they could see. She had lost her two only real friends to Glynn, her first friends at Hogwarts. Everyone had tried to warn her, Nymphadora, Andromeda, Ted, the Malfoys, and even bloody Snape now that she thought of it. They all had seen what she couldn't.

She took another deep breath of air as she surfaced, her face twisted with self-hatred. She had been a burden to everyone, she always has been. She was a burden to her parents, a burden to the Weasleys, a burden to the Tonks, to her House, to the school, and to the Malfoys. What was the point anymore? Why continue being so selfish, she just wanted to go away, far away from anyone who had ever known her. She was tired to pretending, tired to being a burden, tired of being judged, and tired of hiding. She wondered if it would've have been better for everyone if they had locked her up in Azkaban all those years ago. Put her in a cell right next to her mother. Saved everyone the hassle of dealing with her now.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her reverie. "Cassiopeia dear?" her aunts voice rung throughout the bathroom, "would you like to join us for tea?" she was gentle.

Cassiopeia scowled, she would rather burying herself under some covers and forget everything.

"Please?"

Her face twisted unpleasantly. She owed it to the Malfoys she supposed, to at least give them an explanation for her sudden appearance and demeanour. She sighed, closing her eyes, trying to find some inner strength. The sooner she went, the sooner it would be over. She dimly wondered if the Tonks even knew where she was? And how much time had already passed since she had arrived. She should probably write them.

"In a moment." She called lowly, reluctantly picking herself out of the bathtub.

She wandered down to the sitting room slowly, mentally preparing a speech in her head to explain her sudden appearance. She rehearsed it over and over again, trying to hide the tears that burned behind her eyes. She was stronger than that; she wouldn't let Glynn have any power over her, including the power to make her cry.

It was a nice sentiment, easy to say, harder to follow. But it helped, a little.

Her speech was not necessary she quickly found out when she entered the sitting room. Narcissa looked furious, her face drawn and her lips pressed into a tight line, clutching her teacup tightly. Narcissa's fury was dwarfed however by the cold rage on Lucius's face. He looked fearsome, every inch of the death eater Cassiopeia remembered, he looked like a man who was about to kill. He stared into the fire, clutching a glass of amber liquid, forgoing the tea altogether. Cassiopeia swallowed, taking in the singe marks that were still present in the living room, evidence of the plume of flames she had arrived in.

"Er, if this is about you fireplace, I am so sorry, I can pay for the damage." She said nervously, hovering near the doorway. Both occupants startled, turning their gazes to her.

"Sod the fireplace," Lucius waved dismissively, his voice sharp with rage. "That Gambol boy however." He snarled, baring his teeth at the thought. Cassiopeia's heart dropped, and she numbly took a seat.

"Not my boy anymore." Her voice was small, quiet as grabbed a biscuit to nibble on. She scowled at her shaking hands and focussed on steading them.

"I should hope not." Narcissa's voice was waspish, looking fierce, "The nerve of him," she took another sip of tea, trying to master her anger into something productive.

"So you know then." She bowed her head, placing her biscuit delicately on a plate.

"The whole of bloody London knows." Lucius snapped

That caught her attention; her head snapped up in alarm, "what do you mean the whole of bloody London." Her felt the restlessness clawing at her chest, and chills were breaking out across her body. She felt cold, and dread settled deep in her belly.

"The whole of British wizarding society by now dear," Narcissa interjected, glaring at her tea cup as if it had murdered her family. Lucius scoffed before turning back to the fire.

"It seems after your fight with Gambol, he rushed off to tell his father, who then decided to very publicly air your dirty laundry to everyone he could at the ministry. How horrified his boy had been when he discovered your true parentage, how you are a violent witch who is always fighting with fellow students, and how you had a distinct lack of morals, lying to your family about where you've been and spending time with him, alone, for days on end. That's just the short of it."

Cassiopeia's heart froze. Glynn was getting ahead of the story, telling the story in a way that made him look like the victim. Anger began to fill her, before being replaced by cold fear. Glynn knew things, things that could get her expelled. Things that could get her arrested.

"He didn't mention anything about curses did he?" she asked urgently, already thinking of the best way to dispose of the evidence that was hiding in her trunk.

Lucius's eyes narrowed on her suspiciously, "not that I recall, should he have?" his voice was dangerous, "if there is anything you wish to -ah- dispose of, this is the time to inform me." He hissed.

Of course, he wouldn't risk it. He knew things, but so did she. Creating cursed objects was illegal; punishable with some prison time perhaps, certainly enough to warrant expulsion from Hogwarts, but casting an unforgivable was a life sentence. She could survive the consequences of her crime, but he wouldn't be able to survive his.

She twitched her head, deep in thought, wondering how much she should tell the Malfoys. A sudden thought struck her, "wait, he mentioned how I was staying with him? Does Ted know?"

If possible Lucius's face darkened even farther, "that filthy—" he was interrupted by a small cough from his wife who looked pointedly at Cassiopeia, Lucius swallowed the slur reluctantly, "man came up to me in a rage, demanding I tell him where his daughter was. That fool, as if he could hope to create a witch of your calibre—"

He was interrupted again, this time by Cassiopeia, "He did. He made Nymphadora, a metamorphmagus and a bloody quick duellist." Her voice was sharp. She never did take kindly to the Malfoy's magical supremacist views when it came to Ted.

Lucius scowled darkly, muttering under his breath, but continued in a forced civility. " _They_ know and want you to go back. I told him in no uncertain terms that you had chosen to come to us in your time of need and we will be the ones to fix this situation. As if he could even hope to combat the Gambol's." he spat hatefully. She could see the gears in his head spinning as he plotted his revenge against this slight against the family name.

"Don't put yourself out too much Uncle." She said softly, sighing in resignation. "No matter what you say there will always be those who believe him, simply because I am who I am."

"This will not stand." His voice was harsh, "he will suffer for even daring—"

Cassiopeia waved him off. She was so tired, and she desperately needed a potion. She just wanted to sleep, let Glynn have his tall tale. She knew what really happened, she knew his true face, and she knew the one thing that would put him in prison. She held all the leverage, and though she wanted to punch him in the face, she did not want to damn him to prison. Not unless she had to.

"Do what you must Uncle, pulled whatever political strings you need to in order to make his life difficult. But know that you are doing this for yourself, and not for me. I just want to go to my own bed and sleep for the rest of summer."

Tea passed in a tense silence, everyone stewing in their own dark thoughts. When the time came she said her goodbyes, thanked them for their hospitality, and flooed to the Tonks household.

Ted was at work when she arrived, and Nymphadora was staying with friends. Andromeda was waiting for her, sitting in the living room, her own cup of tea in hand, watching the fireplace.

When Cassiopeia arrived she set aside the teacup and silently stood, embracing the girl in a long hug. Her instinct was to pull away from the embrace, but the emotional strain of the last few days had taken their toll. She was alone with her aunt, away from the prying eyes of the world, so she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

She clutched at Andromeda and cried, she cried for her loss, she cried in anger, and most of all she cried in shame. Shame for her relationship, for falling prey to the likes of Glynn, and shame because as she cried in her aunts arms, as she accepted this woman's comfort, she pretended that it was her mother, her real mother, comforting her as a mother should. She imagined her voice, softly cooing in her ear in comfort, as she had done when she was comforting her after a punishment. Andromeda whispered words of encouragement as she tried to assuage her fears, her emotions, and Cassiopeia pretended it was her, Bellatrix, helping her.

A darker part of her, a part that she kept buried even in her darkest moments, wished quietly that she still had her real mother, because Bellatrix Lestrange could certainly make the boy pay, and she would do it happily, simply because he had upset her daughter.

Xxx

 _A/N The story gets darker and darker. But she finally see's what type of person she was with, just maybe a little too late. A thing i really wanted to do with a character like Glynn is explore how some people who have suffered abuse seem to find abusers in their relationships. Cassiopeia was drawn to Glynn because he was nice to her, and he said all the right things at all the right times. Glynn was drawn to Cassiopeia because he sensed she was someone he could take advantage of, someone he could lord his power over, someone he could control. He poisoned her mind by laying doubt, by alienating and isolating her and by controlling a substance she is hopelessly addicted to. He made himself the center of her whole world, a person she worshipped and saw no evil in. And then he finally goes too far, and the illusion is shattered in a tragic way._

 _Cassiopeia is adrift now, the whole world knows who she is, and they have gossip to latch onto that satisfies their expectations for the daughter of mass murderers. Her support, what little there is, she doesnt rely on because she doesnt truly trust that anyone likes her, let alone loves her. She needs a therapist, badly._

 _hope you enjoy, and comments/ suggestions/ typos/ critiques are welcome._


	17. Chapter 17: Summer interlude

The atmosphere was tense in the Tonks household. Nymphadora and Cassiopeia refused to be in the same room as each other, when they were a fight was inevitable. Ted and Andromeda put Cassiopeia's punishment for lying to them about her whereabouts on hold until they felt she could manage it. As it stood Cassiopeia found it difficult to find the energy to do everything. She stayed in her bedroom most the day, her headphones in place and firmly under the covers. She had to be coerced to join them for meals, and eventually they gave up, simply brining up small plates for her periodically through the day.

She was unusually quiet, only engaging with Ted to hear the latest rumours that the Gambols' were spreading. Ted had been reluctant to comment on the unfolding scandal, but she had reasoned that she might as well be kept abreast so she wouldn't be caught by surprise later. Ted also informed her of the few moves he was aware of that Lucius Malfoy was taking to handle the situation. She took in the news numbly, a reaction that worried Ted greatly. She found it strange, she had felt so strongly about Glynn when they were together and now she found it hard to feel anything about the drama he was causing. So far no mention of her dabbling in curses had come up in his rumours and she distantly understood that she would have to see him again to have a conversation about what he did and did not say. She wondered how much she would have to bodily threaten him to keep quiet, or if her knowledge of his law breaking would be enough.

Part of her relished the thought of threatening him with bodily harm. In her lowest depths of depression she imagined what she would do, what tools she would use, and how satisfying it would be.

Ted and Andromeda had tried everything to get her to leave her room. They tried her favourite foods, luring her to the arcade, to the record store, and to the library. But nothing worked, she didn't particularly want to go out into public, she didn't want to pretend that Glynn wasn't actively ruining her life and her future. She had worked so hard to keep her head down in school, and now the whole wizarding world not only knew who she was, they knew all sorts of salacious details about her personal life.

She wanted to delay facing their judgement; she just wanted to hide under her covers for as long as humanly possible. She ignored the few owls that arrived from the Malfoys, tossing them aside unopened. She reluctantly opened a correspondence from Hogwarts, from Professor Snape, confirming her course load changes. Professor Quirrell was taking a sabbatical to go on a grand tour, so she decided to drop muggle studies from her schedule and her O.W.L.S. examination list. The course provided her with little new knowledge, and she only stuck with the elective because she had such a fondness for Quirrell. A new professor did not interest her enough to keep the subject.

And so time passed, Cassiopeia read and she listened to music, and she almost never left her room, despite all efforts of her guardians. Eventually she relented to leave the house with Ted, not because she particularly wanted to help the man run errands, but because he had made the most pitiful face at her when he asked.

Cassiopeia had many bad qualities, but saying no to Ted Tonks when he gave what Andromeda called his 'kicked puppy' look was not something she was able to do. It was Ted's secret weapon, one he only brought out when he was seriously in trouble, or very desperate. Andromeda later told her that it was how Ted convinced her to give him a shot on their first date.

And so Cassiopeia found herself reluctantly traipsing around the muggle world with Ted Tonks, who seemed to find many excuses to take breaks from their errands that she suspected were made up, to stop in at various cafes for a 'revitalising cuppa' as Ted would say. So she dutifully drank her tea, ate the offered ice cream, and kept quiet, pointedly ignoring any of Ted's attempts to steer the conversation from meaningless prattle to something more serious. She appreciated the attempt and she knew it was from the bottom of that man's hear, but she just wasn't ready to talk because she didn't know what to say.

Yes, of course she was livid at Glynn, for many reasons, not least being the rumours he and his father were spreading. She couldn't forgive Nymphadora for telling the whole bloody school about her real parents. She was angry at herself for staying with Glynn and putting up with so much rubbish from him for years. And she was hurt; her heart ached as she mourned the prick that was her ex boyfriend.

Her problem was that she had too many feelings, she felt so full of them that it was suffocating, stifling, and if she acknowledged them verbally she worried they would erode what little control she still had. She didn't have to words to let them out, nor did she have the strength. So she remained under the weight of them, preferring to endure their crushing weight in bed, with music to blot out the worst of it.

Finally Ted admitted defeat and they slowly meandered back to the Tonks household at the edge of the village, in an almost amicable silence. Cassiopeia sighed in relief as the man grew quiet, and passed the pleasant walk taking in the few rays of sunshine and the sound of the birds.

Her brief spell of contentment lasted for a total of five minutes upon entering the house. The whole living room had been overrun with laundry, with Andromeda at the centre of it, folding and organising the load.

"Oh Cassiopeia dear!" she called happily, moving a pile of folded clothes off her lap before grabbing a basket of rumpled clothes.

"I just sent Nymphadora up to gather your washing, I figured we could take advantage of the dry weather and get the lot of it done today. Then we wont have to rush when you both go back to school next month." She gestured to a set of uniforms, conspicuously marked in yellow next to the sofa.

Cassiopeia froze, her brain slowly processing the woman's words. Uniforms, she was washing their school clothes. She sent Nymphadora, to her room, to grab her washing. Dread crept up her spine as she spun to run up to her room, yelling her adopted sisters name all the way up, warning her to not touch anything. Because hidden amongst her school clothes was a box, a box filled with objects that she had placed minor curses on, curses that would be transferred to her if she touched them, curses that Cassiopeia wasn't quite certain she could break.

"Oh sod off Cass, mum's… what the..?" Dora spun, holding a few crumpled up clothes in her hands to face her sister. The motion dislodged the box that was half caught up in the clothing, sending it tumbling to the floor, its contents spilling across the room.

"Don't move." Cassiopeia's voice was sharp as she drew her wand as a precaution, watching the artefacts closely to see whether any of the curses were activated. She had designed them to be inert until touched by a witch or wizard, but she was also very keenly aware of how easy it would have been for her to make a mistake in the creation of these objects.

"Why do you have a box of junk in your dirty clothes?" she was mystified, completely unaware of the danger she was in.

"Dora, I am serious, don't move." Something in her voice must've caught the older girls attention, it sharpened when she noticed the wand clutched firmly in her hand. "Merlin Cass, overreacting much? Mum told me to get your stuff, I didn't mean to toss all your junk around." Even as she said it, she plopped the school clothes back into the trunk and made a move to help clear up the mess she made.

Cassiopeia lunged forward, intending to push her sister away from the dangerous spread to safety. She heard both Ted and Andromeda pounding up the stairs behind them, Andromeda's voice echoing down the hallway, "I can't believe you two are already fighting!"

She was too late; the Tonks' arrived just in time to see their daughter collapse as her hands clasped an old butterbeer bottle cap and Cassiopeia looming over her.

The girl was in hysterics, her whole body shaking as laughter erupted out of her mouth. It was a curse of hysteria, a modified version of it at least. Cassiopeia turned it into a laughing curse. It was one of her newer creations, and she had hoped the nondescript face of the object would keep anyone from ever touching it before she had a chance to break the curse, but unfortunately that hadn't been enough.

She did note with a grim satisfaction that the curse worked exactly the way she intended. The victim was struck useless, unable to stop laughing, it was rather eerie seeing it in person, her eyes were wide with tears and fear, and yet her face was transformed with mirth.

"Dora?!" Andromeda began to rush to her daughters side, "Dora, what's wrong?" she could hear the terror in her voice, Ted was silent, his face pale, his hands clutching the door frame as he tried to process the scene in front of him.

"Don't, those objects. They're cursed." Cassiopeia pushed Andromeda back towards the doorway, before squatting down to gather up the objects.

"Cursed?!" she sounded weak as she tried to understand what had happened.

"Yes, minor ones. This one is predictable but I am not sure how it would interact with another curse." She gingerly used a piece of cloth to place the objects back into their box.

"Where did this curse come from?" Ted asked quietly, his arm wrapping around his wife tightly.

Cassiopeia was silent, carefully setting the box out of the way. She stayed silent as the Tonks rushed passed her to their daughter, still laughing manically on the ground. It was all she could do to breathe, and Cassiopeia wondered if she would pass out from hypoxia.

Andromeda fussed over her daughter, tears of fear and frustration at her inability to help falling form her eyes. Ted had a hand on his wife's shoulder and clutched his daughter's hand tightly in his other, but his gaze was on his fifteen year old ward who was far calmer than the situation called far.

"We need to get her to St Mungos." Andromeda said, searching for her wand, trying to make sense of what was happening still.

Ted's eyes narrowed as he saw the fear flash across Cassiopeia's face. "What did you do Cassiopeia?" his voice was low and cold, and she flinched slightly, she had never heard Ted speak that way.

Andromeda looked between her husband and her niece, finally noticing the girl frantically digging through a pile of notebooks.

"I can fix it, honest. I just need to find my notes."

"No. You will not be going anywhere near my daughter. I will fix this, and you will tell me how."

Cassiopeia was chilled by the change that had come over Ted. Ted who was also so jovial, so light hearted, who was always the first to try and break a tense situation Ted who had spent the whole day trying to cheer her up, Ted who now looked at her with anger and suspicion.

"I told you, it's a curse. I er, well I think I can break it." She held up her

"None of that. Can you break it or do we need to get the authorities involved?"

Cassiopeia swallowed, her eyes scanning her notes, Nymphadora's cursed laughter ringing in her ears. She nodded, slowly at first; she had been close to breaking this particular creation.

"It will take me a little bit to clean up the counter curse, but I should be able to do it before any adverse effects kick in." she said quietly, not quite able to meet anyone's eyes.

"Is it deadly? This curse of yours?" Andromeda's voice was quiet and she looked at Cassiopeia as if she were a complete stranger. In a lot of ways, she was a stranger to them.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "Its premise is simple, laughter." She swallowed thickly, "I supposed dehydration would be the ultimate cause of death. But that's days away. I can break it well before then."

"You have an hour. If there is no improvement we will take her and all of your notes to St Mungos, and contact the authorities." Ted said woodenly, carefully picking up his daughter and moving her out of the room, tears falling down his face.

And so it began, Cassiopeia grabbed a pen and began her work finishing the counter curse, the maniacal laughter echoing through the house.

She focussed; half wondering if this would be the last thing she ever did in the wizarding world. If Ted did contact the authorities she knew with a cold certainty that they wouldn't just expel her and destroy her wand. They would try and lock her up.

She would take that as it came, Merlin knew she deserved the punishment. But she wouldn't let anything else happen to Nymphadora. She may not like the girl very much, but her stomach clenched when she thought of anything bad happening to her.

She presented the counter curse to Ted, still unable to meet his eyes directly. He accepted it silently, closing the door to Nymphadora's room in her face. She took the message and perched at the top of the staircase, hugging her knees to her chest.

She listened closely, hearing only the cursed laughter at first, and murmuring from the Tonks as they deciphered her notes. Finally with some relief she the eerie laughs changed into choking sobs as the curse was broken and the girl returned to normal.

The sobs continued for some time, Cassiopeia buried her head in her knees as guilt gripped her soul. Nymphadora sounded terrified, crying so hard she found it hard to breathe. Eventually the sobs grew less pronounced, and soon they quieted all together.

The Tonks stayed with her that night, tucking her into bed and kept vigil. Cassiopeia fell asleep at the top of the stairs, waiting for any news or any acknowledgement from the Tonks. None came.

The next day the house was silent, Nymphadora staying in bed and Ted called out from work. They stayed near their daughter, checking to see whether her health had worsened and whether any new side effects of the curse lingered. They did not acknowledge Cassiopeia beyond a few sharp glances; they had eyes only for Nymphadora.

That night Cassiopeia sat in her room, staring morosely at her piles of notebooks outlining her curses. She wanted to blame this on Glynn; it was him that gave her the idea to actual start crafting cursed objects, in the beginning. But ultimately it was her who was at fault. She kept making more and more, and she was thankful that Dora had at least picked up an object that had an almost fully fleshed out counter curse. She shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn't have been so fortunate.

That night she overheard Ted and Andromeda, they had carefully shut Nymphadora's bedroom door, safe with the knowledge that she had fallen asleep and had moved downstairs for a strong drink.

"Maybe we made a mistake taking her in Ted," Andromeda muttered through her tears. "I never would have dreamed…" she trailed off, staring hard at the window. "Maybe we were naïve, we thought that with some love, some stability, that she could brush off years of influence from my sister. We were blind to all the signs, the fighting, the lies, and now this? She cursed our daughter, and it is all my fault." She sniffed loudly.

"Now Dromeda, of course its not your fault. I convinced you to give her a chance—"

"But she's my family. I should've known that nothing good could ever come from that family…She's like a miniature Bella…"

Cassiopeia's eyes burned as she eavesdropped on the conversation in the next room. She felt hollow, betrayal lancing through her whole body. She should've known really, it was foolish of her to trust these people to love her. She had deluded herself that they would be different, that they genuinely cared and wouldn't abandon her. She believed their promises, and yet when it came down to it, they were just the same as everyone else. And didn't she deserve it? She had almost killed their daughter, their blood.

She was better off on her own, away from people. At least if she was alone there was no one for her to hurt, even accidentally. And didn't they know? That it was an accident? Not that it really mattered now; they had already made up their mind.

She didn't need anyone, she could take care of herself, and she had done it before hadn't she? She didn't need Hogwarts, she didn't need the magical world, and she certainly didn't need her so-called family who were happy to throw her away after her admittedly rather large mistake. She reckoned it was only a matter of time before they reported her to the Aurors, she was as good as expelled from Hogwarts as it stood, this would only finalise things.

She crept back to her room, her temporary sanctuary in the world. The walls, which once had felt so welcoming, now felt like a shallow illusion of comfort. She grabbed one of her larger rucksacks, a remnant of one of her past lives, and started packing it with essentials.

She needed a few pairs of clothes, her tapes, maybe a book or two to keep her company. She fought back angry tears and she processed the Tonks conversation. They weren't wrong, and that was the worst part. They had deluded themselves into thinking she was someone that she wasn't. And wasn't she guilty of that too? She tried so hard to be someone else; someone worthy of their love and admiration, but the reality was that she wasn't someone worth loving, or even liking. She was dangerous, she hurt people, whether she wanted to or not, and she was no better than Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange. Maybe that man, Crouch, had been right all those years ago. Maybe she deserved to be in Azkaban.

It was best for everyone that she left. Save them the awkward conversation that was bound to happen in the morning. The 'we are sorry but we made a mistake and have to send you back to where you came from' conversation. The one she secretly had been half expecting all this time at the Tonks'. Well, they weren't going to send her back to the muggle orphanage and she sure wasn't going to Azkaban. She'd make her own way.

A cough startled her, and she spun with her wand in her hand to face to sudden sound. It was a dreadful looking Nymphadora; her eyes were red and her skin grey as she stared silently at the packing girl from the doorway. "So that's it then. You're leaving." It wasn't a question; it was a dull statement of fact. Her eyes shone with anger, resentment, Cassiopeia's stomach clenched unpleasantly as she saw another emotion, one she recognised very well, disgust.

"What's it to you?" she shoved her Walkman into the bag with some back up batteries. She grabbed one of her knives, deftly flicking it open to test the sharpness against her nail. Razor.

Nymphadora watched silently, before turning around and leaving without another word. Cassiopeia grabbed a pair of sturdy boots and slipped them on, throwing spare socks into her bulging bag. She grabbed her potions knife, a small delicate thing that had been a nice gift from Nymphadora and carefully ran an old shoelace through the loop on the knife sheath before slipping it around her neck and tucking it under her shirt. It was good to have multiple weapons, to always have something up her sleeve. Her mother had taught her that. Remaining unpredictable kept one out of sticky situations.

Nymphadora returned, holding a jacket and a wad of muggle money. It was Ted's private stash of muggle money, stuff he kept for emergency situations. Dora must have raided his not so hidden hiding spot. Cassiopeia accepted the gift wordlessly, stuffing the money into her pocket and shrugging on the jacket. Cassiopeia tucked her wand carefully away.

"You know you cant do magic outside of school." Dora said hollowly, watching the girl gather her things.

"Do you know how many aurors it took to take down my parents?" She asked lowly, averting her eyes, and giving her bag a final check over. Dora remained silent. "Nine. They took on nine aurors and nearly won. It will take more than that to take me down. I don't give a damn what the ministry says, they'll have to pry my wand off my dead body." Her eyes burned as she thought about what she was leaving behind. She wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts. She was leaving everything behind; the wizarding world had brought her nothing but pain.

She was done. She was ready to go. Dora stared at her for a minute, anger still simmering behind her eyes, before turning around to head back to her room. The door shut with a very solid click and suddenly Cassiopeia was left alone.

She heard Andromeda and Ted arguing and crying in the kitchen, she saw Dora flick off her light and Cassiopeia crept downstairs and out the front door into the cool night.

The Tonks household was in the suburbs of a muggle town. It was only a few miles to the train and bus station. With the money Dora gave her she figured the best thing to do was to take the first train or bus out of town. It was still early, before midnight, so services would be in operation to the big cities.

Despite what she said to Dora she knew better than to use magic, understanding the concept of a trace. She wanted to disappear, so she had to do it the muggle way. Getting lost in a city was much easier than the countryside, so she knew she wanted to head somewhere urban, preferably far away. She thought about trying to get back up to the Midlands where she had spent some time in orphanages, or even going to the West Country. She quickly counted her cash, a little over a hundred quid and some change. Enough for a ticket to almost anywhere.

Her decision ultimately was made when she arrived at the bus station after nearly forty minutes of walking and scheming. Sitting in the bus depot outside the train station was a coach heading to London Victoria station. London was the largest city in the UK, if she could get lost anywhere, it would be there. And if she didn't like London, she could easily go anywhere in the world, as a major transportation hub.

Xxx

It took Andromeda far longer than it should have to realise Cassiopeia was missing. She checked in on her daughter early the next morning, and seeing her nieces door closed she decided to let her stew some more, finding that choice easier than dealing with the inevitable talk that they were going to have. She put it off until Ted was back from work; it was best that they do it together, as they did everything else. Though Nymphadora, who was in an unusually jubilant mood, lightened the severity of the situation in what was a rather remarkable improvement and one that relaxed her slightly.

She didn't grow worried until dinnertime when she still didn't leave her room. "Ted, why don't you take a plate up to Cass, she hasn't eaten all day." Andromeda suggested.

"I wouldn't bother." Dora said into her plate cheerfully eating her dinner.

"Dora, everyone's gotta eat, even if they are in a rotten mood. She's probably been beating herself up all day. All that brain power burns some mean calories." Ted said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Nymphadora snorted and rolled her eyes, "I mean I wouldn't bother because she isn't up there." She skewered another piece of meat and chewed it happily, uncaring to her parents surprised and worried looks.

"What do you mean she's not up there Dora?" Andromeda asked dumbstruck.

"I mean she left, last night. Buggered off after stealing a load of money from dad." Ted was already standing up, squeezing his wife's hand before bustling out of the room to check his stash, and the veracity of his daughters claims. His pale face was all the information Andromeda needed to confirm her growing fears.

"Where did she go?" she asked, her mind racing, her niece had been missing for nearly a day without her noticing.

Dora shrugged, uncaring, "is there any pudding?"

"Nymphadora Tonks you listen here. Did she say where she might be headed? Or why she would decide to leave?" Ted asked.

Dora rolled her eyes, "oh come off it you two, like you weren't going to get rid of her anyhow after what happened. We both heard what you said, about her being beyond redemption and too much like her parents. She just saved everyone the trouble and took herself out of the picture."

Her parents paled, speechless, "What—when? That was a private conversation, how much did you hear?"

Her daughter shrugged, her hair changing to a bright pink as she took another bite, "enough I suppose. She said some rubbish about taking down some aurors if they went after her, and then left out the front door."

Ted was already grabbing the landline, his mind racing, should he call the police? The school? The ministry? The press? The girl was alone and he had no idea how to help her.

"Around what time did she leave?"

Nymphadora shrugged once more, "dunno. It was late."

"Ill call the public transport services, you go to her room and look for anything that might hint where she has gone." Ted said, patting his wife on the shoulder, reaching for a phone book.

Andromeda searched her room, her feeling of despair increasing with every moment. A day. It took a full day for her to notice her niece's absence. The longer she spent in her room the more she realised she really didn't know much about the girl, sure she knew she enjoyed listening to music and playing arcade games, but what child doesn't like that? Her room was bare, especially in comparison to Nymphadora's room, which was a riot of colour and a mess. Cassiopeia's room was orderly, filled with books and notebooks, each stacked carefully, organised according to some mental template.

She balked at the books, it was all right there, in front of them, books about dark magic, curses, and curses breaking, mixed in with her regular school books. Atop her desk was her box of her experiments, labelled clearly with a bold letters,

DANGER-DO NOT TOUCH. CURSED OBJECTS WITHIN.

Andromeda picked up a notebook near the top of the pile; it was labelled schematics-bracelet, frowning as she flipped through it. Page after page of writing, diagrams and thoughts, ideas hastily scrawled and scribbled out in frustration. It was a whole world she was completely ignorant of.

She dutifully checked all of the usual hiding spots, uncertain what she was really looking for, and dreading what she would find. Cassiopeia didn't seem to hide her interest in dark magic given the very public way she organised her reading, she never needed to since they clearly never paid attention. She checked under the mattress, in the bottoms of her drawers, hoping to find a journal, or anything to give any indication of where she might have gone.

She found a curious pile of vials, several dozen in fact stacked neatly under her bed, dates carefully written on each one. She frowned as she examined the pile, noticing scores along the side indicating some type of dosage. She opened one vial and took a very hesitant sniff, the smell of peppermint overwhelming her. It was a pepper up potion, an odd thing to have under her bed. Her eyes caught another vial, filled with a different liquid, and swirled it carefully, trying to remember her potions from school.

"I called down the station, they said they'd review the CCTV and get back to us." Ted called from the doorway. "Find something 'dromeda?"

"What do you think this is?" she asked, looking at it the substance against the light. Ted took the vial from her, popping it open and sniffing it delicately.

"Dreamless Sleep if I'm not mistaken." He was as confused as she was, taking in the pile of glass she had pulled from under the bed.

Together they searched the room, finding more and more discarded potions, and receipts from a seller in Knockturn Alley.

"This goes back years Ted." Her voice was hoarse and her stomach turned with guilt. She had been evidently dosing herself for years and they didn't even notice. She turned over her memories, looking for any hint, any sign that they could have missed.

The phone rang, shocking them out of their despondency.

"She got on a bus to London Victoria last night, paid cash." He returned holding her coat and his car keys. "Come on, we can drop Dora off at mum's and we can go see if we can find her. It's only been a day and it seems she spent most of her money on that ticket. We'll find her, I promise."

Andromeda nodded numbly, accepting the offered coat and went to help Nymphadora pack her things.

A few days passed before they went to the muggle police, reporting her officially missing. They had early success in finding her trail, she had tried sleeping in bus shelters and train stations initially, but was always run off by security. A few shopkeepers remembered chasing her off in the morning, and a few rough sleepers remembered seeing her. The way they described made Andromeda sick with anxiety; they said she was in a bad way, drying out as one man put it.

A few weeks passed, Ted reluctantly went back to work having used up all of his sick and holiday leave. He and Nymphadora went back their house while Andromeda stayed with her mother in law, spending each day searching for her niece, speaking to people and handing out missing person posters around London. The weather turned, rain and cold swept across the city and she followed her niece's trail north, out of the city centre and into the suburbs.

People offered tantalising hints, leads that all ultimately led to dead ends. They had seen her, out in the rain. She was sick they said, skinny with deep bags under her eyes and deathly pale. She had a cough another woman said.

A severe looking woman approached her looking livid, dragging her son by the scruff of his jumper. "Tell the woman what you told me." She demanded. The boy kicked the ground, and was beet red, refusing to look at anyone. The woman smacked the boy in the back of head, and the boy sheepishly admitted to seeing Cassiopeia.

"Yeah we saw her up by the park on mill road. She was sleeping where we normally played footy, all curled up like. We ran her off, only roughing her up a little bit before she pulled a knife on us. She ran up to the canal, into them trees. Ow! What was that for?" The boy scowled up at his mother who had given him another smack on the head.

"Nothing but a juvenile delinquent you are. Wait until your father hears about this." The woman warned her son before turning back to Andromeda, "I am so sorry about your daughter, I'll ask around the ladies and see if anyone has seen her. I promise my son will be punished for hurting the girl." She smacked him again for good measure.

Andromeda smile weakly, thanking the lady, glaring at the boy as they left, her heart breaking more and more as she digested his words. She was alone, sick, and had been roughed up by some kids.

A full month had passed and her trail had gone cold. They still hadn't informed the ministry or the school that she had run away, worried about the measures the ministry might take to find her. She had taken her wand, and though she had yet to perform any underage magic, she worried about what she would do if she felt cornered by aurors. Attacking an auror was against the law, and she doubted she would receive any sympathy for her circumstances at the ministry. Not with the stories that were still going about from the Gambols.

They would give it one more week before they made it public that she was missing. Term was starting soon and they were running out of time. Andromeda had grown accustomed to the 'sorry's and 'cant help you's that when she found her next lead, her first in nearly three weeks, she was taken aback.

It was the owner of a corner shop, a kind sikh man who became outraged when Andromeda showed him a picture of Cassiopeia.

"You know her?" he demanded, jabbing his finger into the poster angrily. "You looking for her? She robbed me three weeks ago, I'll tell you where she went when you pay for what she stole."

"Are you sure?" she asked, completely taken aback.

The man scoffed, shaking his finger at her, oscillating between pointing at the poster and Andromeda, "I know who I saw. It was her. Her hair is different now, but it was her, look." He stomped to his counter, grabbing a black videotape and shoving it into a muggle device. Andromeda watched in numb shock as there, clear was day, was Cassiopeia wandering through the shop, pretending to browse while keeping a careful eye on the shop keeper. The shop owner was busy with a customer when she started stuffing random items into her bag. The man paused the tape when she looked directly at the camera, and Andromeda leaned forward eagerly, taking in her face.

She was pale and far too thin. She didn't recognize the clothes she was wearing, a too large leather jacket with painted slogans and silvery studs all over it and in clothes filled with holes and poorly patched. The most shocking thing however was her hair, or her lack of it. The sides of her head had been cut short, tight against her head, and the remaining hair on the top of her head had been chopped into a shorter, more contained pile of messy curls. Cassiopeia always had a habit of hiding behind her hair, letting it fall into her face, shielding her from the world. The girl in the security footage was hiding from no one. She smirked, holding two fingers up at the camera before running out of the shop, chased by the very man in front of her.

"You pay for what she stole, and I wont call the police." He said firmly, now pointing at the screen.

"Can I have a copy of that picture?"

"You buy something and ill give you a copy. Buy many things ill tell you which direction she ran in."

"Wait, you said earlier I pay for what she stole and you'll tell me where she went." Andromeda complained, bristling with irritation.

The shopkeeper smirked and shrugged, crossing his arms. Mumbling obscenities Andromeda reluctantly handed over what she was sure was far more than what was stolen for the information. She angrily shoved the overpriced muggle snacks into her purse, wondering just how badly she had been swindled. Her understanding of how much muggle money was worth was limited at best, but even she knew paying a fiver for a packet of crisps was ludicrous.

But she had a lead, and an updated photo. The man pointed her down the street, saying she had run off to the industrial estate at the edge of the town. It took her another two days before she narrowed down exactly where the girl was hiding.

She had first noticed it when she was going shop to shop, flashing around the updated picture of the girl. The reactions she got were different; she saw the recognition in their eyes, and the suspicion when they looked her. They smiled at her when they said they didn't recognise her, or that they'd never seen her before walking away. Most people were apologetic that they couldn't help; these people seemed a touch too jovial.

She got this reaction the further she walked near the industrial estate. The estate itself was filled with crumbling tenement buildings that had seen better days, each overflowing with people of all different races, speaking different languages. There was graffiti everywhere, ranging from artwork or messages about someone named Maggie, and something about pigs. Everywhere she looked she saw poverty, and she also saw community. Children played in the streets, running in and out of the different flats in the tenements, all the doors unlocked. Neighbours chatted with each other, shouting out windows across narrow alleyways, and groups of youths sat together out front of the buildings, smoking and laughing. She heard music coming out of different windows and people greeting one another as they walked.

She also felt their eyes on her. Watching and whispering, the kids running between the buildings, spread the message, translated in what seemed to be at least a dozen languages, that someone not from there was poking around. It finally got to the point where people wouldn't even look at her picture; they just smirked and said they knew nothing.

She returned the next day with Ted in tow, and he agreed that they were definitely in the right place. If she wasn't there, she had been there very recently they thought.

They walked into the last shop on the high street, past two rough looking men, covered in leather with brightly coloured hair into a charity shop. Both Ted and Andromeda gave each other a shocked glanced as they took in the men, as they had never seen anyone dressed so outlandish in their lives. She almost thought they might have been wizards in poor disguise their fashion was so garish. They sneered at her, as they entered the shop, arm and arm and were met by a keeper who made the men outside the shop look average.

She was a young woman with pale blonde hair, tall and skinny, dressed in similarly torn and patched clothes that Cassiopeia was wearing the in the shop video, she also had a leather vest that was painted in bright colours and adorned with studs. What made her so shocking to the Tonks were her tattoos. She was covered; they started on her hands and crawled up her neck, ending just below her chin, brightly coloured and running together, she was a walking tapestry. Her face was covered with silvery piercings, and two big holes gaped in her ears where most would have small studs. She smiled kindly at them, and Andromeda winced as she watched the multitude of piercings move.

"Alright." She greeted.

"Hi, I wondered if you could help us," Ted started, pulling out the folded piece of paper from his jacket. Distantly he heard the shop bell ring as the two men who had been sitting outside came into the store.

"We are looking for this girl and wondered if you had seen her?"

The shorter of the two men, wearing a bowler hat with thick glasses that magnified his eyes took a heavy seat in one of the chairs set off to the side of the shop, letting out a contented sigh and stared straight at the Tonks'. He was a thin lad, with a narrow face with sharp features; he smirked at them before picking up a magazine and promptly burying his nose in it. Ted eyed him uncertainly before turning back to the shopkeeper.

She was still smiling at them, leaning across the counter on her elbows, her eyes flicking briefly to the paper and back to them.

"Cassiopeia huh? Interesting name. You her parents?" she asked kindly

"Her guardians. She's our niece, she's been missing for six weeks now." Andromeda said

"Was she kidnapped?" the man sitting in the chair asked, never looking away from his magazine.

"Er no." Ted said, looking at the man closely, hope blooming in his chest.

"Then maybe she aint wanna be found." The taller of the two men said while perusing a rack that was clearly filled with clothes for elderly women.

Now that he was standing Ted realised just how big he was, standing well over six feet, covered in lean muscle emphasised by his too small shirt that were cut off at the arms. Unlike the other two, he wore no leather jacket and his bright red hair was styled into long sharp spikes. His face was rough, his nose bent in several directions and Ted noticed nervously that his knuckles were swollen and scabbed; he was a man who was no stranger to fights.

"We just want to talk to her, to make sure she is alright." Ted said, pulling his wife closer to him as he carefully watched the other man.

"And if we say she's alrigh' will you leave?" the woman's smile sharpened, her tone still pleasant. The larger of the two men crossed his arms and scowled down at them.

"Well, er…no. We need to hear it from her." Ted's hand slowly crept into his pocket, his eyes flicking between the three muggles.

"I wouldn' do tha' if I was you mate." The man holding the magazine said in a thick Yorkshire accent, his eyes flicking meaningfully to the larger of the two men, who now stood holding a sturdy looking wooden umbrella meaningfully, weighing it carefully, baring his teeth at Ted.

"Now look here, we are not looking for trouble—" Ted started, now pushing Andromeda behind him slightly, away from the perceived danger.

"You come into my town, asking about folks that don' wannae be found, and you say you aint lookin' for trouble mate?"

The woman looked amused, her eyes flicking back and forth between Ted and the red haired man. Her eyes flicked out to the street briefly as well, and for the first time her smile faltered slightly, her eyebrows dropping as the shop bell rang again.

"Subhas was out of veg samosas, so you lot are gonna have to live with pakora, but he threw in a little extra as thanks fer—what the fuck Mouse."

It was Cassiopeia, standing in the middle of the shop holding a large white plastic bag that was exuding exotic spices. She froze, paling slightly as her eyes briefly lingered on her family before turning to the large man holding the umbrella.

Andromeda didn't give her a chance to say anything else, wrapping the girl up in her arms and crying slightly in relief. They had finally found her, she was safe, whole, and only a little worse for wear.

Cassiopeia stiffened; holding her food laden arms out of the way, and didn't return the hug. Instead she stared suspiciously at Ted before flicking her eyes to the red haired man.

The larger man snarled, raising his umbrella threateningly, only stopping when she shook her head slightly. She then turned her gaze to the tattooed woman, completely ignoring the worried prattle from Andromeda.

"Blimey Lucas, were you just gonna let him have a go at my uncle?"

The woman shrugged, "I hadn't decided. I guess we'll never know. You alright?" she said, looking pointedly at Andromeda who was still squeezing her in relief.

"Dromeda darling," Ted intervened, carefully pulling his wife away from his niece, looking at Cassiopeia as if he wanted to be doing the same thing. Both of them wore expressions of naked relief and exhaustion, the toll of their hunt for her finally hitting them.

Cassiopeia nodded at Ted and carefully passed the food to the man holding the umbrella, jigging it impatiently when he hesitated between grabbing the food and keeping a hold on his makeshift weapon.

"I figured it would be the Aurors who picked me up." She said softly to the couple, ignoring the strange looks from her friends.

Though the relief remained on their faces, pleased to finally see her, the room began to fill with an awkward tension.

"We never called them." Ted replied. He was frowning in worry, his eyes flicking over her person, his brow wrinkling the longer he looked.

She had lost a lot of weight, something that was emphasised by the too large leather jacket she was wearing. She was also pale, like someone who had been very recently quite ill. Most noticeably were her hands, each fist was wrapped carefully with some torn pieces of cloth, held together with a safety pin, and she had scratches on her face, surrounded by angry bruises, evidence of a rough situation.

She pursed her lips, snorting softly, "You would've done it soon enough I reckon, term is about to start."

Ted nodded slowly, "the school would have."

The room grew quiet, the only sound coming from the rustling of the plastic bag as the large man dug through it, munching on a deep fried patty.

"So wha'" he said through a mouthful of food, "yeh've seen 'er now feck off." He gestured to the door rudely.

She smiled fondly at the man, her shoulders slumped in defeat, "its not that simple Mouse." She said dejectedly.

She had been trying to prepare herself for this conversation for a few days, ever since she caught wind of Andromeda poking around the village. She wasn't certain what direction the conversation would go, and she was truthfully terrified to talk to the Tonks. She didn't want to face their rejection, she had already heard what they truly thought of her, and she didn't really want to repeat that experience.

"Right. Well this is awkward. Why don't you lot head into the back, seems like you have a lot of baggage to unpack." The tattooed woman, Lucas exclaimed, breaking the tension once more.

Mouse scowled at the Tonks, pulling his lips back from his teeth and stood tall, an effect that might have been intimidating if his hands weren't full of takeaway.

"Take yer food. Shout if you need nowt." The man said, staring down Ted.

She kept her distance from the Tonks, gesturing them forward into the back room of the shop, following shortly into the little kitchenette taking a seat that put the furthest amount of distance between her and her family.

"Mind if I.." Ted trailed off, holding his wand and gesturing pointedly to the doorway. Cassiopeia eyed him carefully before nodding slowly.

Despite the appropriate warding in place to allow them to speak freely, suddenly everyone in the room found themselves awkwardly silent. Andromeda had rehearsed all of the things she wanted to tell the girl in her over the previous six weeks, and Ted had practiced balancing apologies with a stern conversation about keeping secrets.

"That big fellow there seemed very protective." Ted remarked, trying to break the tension.

"Yes." Cassiopeia agreed, offering no more explanation.

"Are you alright? What happened to your face?" Andromeda asked softly, her face full of concern.

Cassiopeia ran her hand across the scrape, gently probing the yellowing bruise surrounding it. "I got kicked in the head." She said bluntly, dropping her hands back to her lap. She stared at the Tonks defiantly, daring them to continue.

"And your hands?" Ted asked, already fearing the answer.

"Punched a bloke in the face."

The Tonks gaped, glancing at each other nervously. Silence filled the room again, Cassiopeia not bothering to clarify her statement.

"You look thin." Andromeda stated, trying to move on, "Are you eating."

She shrugged, "I am now."

"They said you were sick. When we were looking for you, the few people who had seen you mentioned it."

She glanced away, her face colouring, "I was uh" she coughed uncomfortably, "drying out." Her voice was low and she studiously avoided their eye contact once more.

"We saw the potions vials." Ted said softly, trying to catch her eye. She remained stubbornly silent.

"We've been looking for you, since the day you left. I've probably spoken to half of the muggles in London with your picture." Andromeda smoothed out the missing persons poster and showed it to her.

Cassiopeia glanced at it, eyeing the updated picture briefly before flicking back to them. "Doubt it. There's a lot of muggles in London." She said petulantly, reaching for a fork and popping open her food.

Ted sighed in frustration, running his hands over his face tiredly, "It's been six weeks Cass. We've been worried sick, your aunt has run herself ragged looking for you, and now that we've finally found you, this is how you greet us?"

She shrugged again, taking a bite of her curry. "You were looking for me, I was not looking for you. So it seems to me that that's your problem."

They lapsed into silence once more. Cassiopeia ate her curry, her eyes never leaving the Tonks, as she fidgeted in irritation.

"So do I need to sign some type of paperwork or something?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

"What? Why?" Asked Ted, utterly confused.

"For my name change. An incident report? An adoption annulment? There are many things I could imagine you need my signature for." She bit out, speaking into her food, her shoulders dropping as she curled into herself.

"What are you talking about?" Andromeda asked, utterly mystified.

"Well that's why you've gone through all this trouble in finding me." She was glaring into her food now.

"What, why would you think that? We've been looking for you because we were worried about you. You just disappeared, without a note, any warning, stealing some money and wandering off into the night. What were you thinking? And then we hear all sorts of things, about how you were sick, attacked by a group of boys in a park, that you pulled a knife on someone? You robbed a corner shop, and now that we find you, you tell us that you were kicked in the face. Merlin Cassiopeia, I hope this is just a phase because I don't think my nerves can take much more of this." Ted was almost shouting at her, pulling anxiously at his hair and he let out his irritation.

She was looking at them now, her eyes blazing in anger. "Oh come off it Ted, you can quit giving me the dragon dung and just come out in say it. I heard you that night, both of you, talking about how it was a mistake bringing me into the house, how I was a danger to everyone around me. I saved us all a load of trouble and left, removing my burden from your lives. I didn't ask you to come and find me, I just assumed you'd call the aurors, and they'd place me back, well somewhere, depending on how much you told them. So let's just get straight to the point, where do you want me to sign or what do I have to say so you can feel better about yourselves about this failed experiment."

She angrily pushed her curry away in frustration, no longer hungry.

"What we said Cassiopeia, you were never supposed to hear. Merlin, we never should have said it. I wish I could take it back, truly. We were angry, worried sick about Dora, and confused."

Cassiopeia eyed them suspiciously, her lip curled in anger. "So what, are we supposed to go back and play happy family again? Are we going to forgive and forget until next time? Look, its been grand, truly. Thank you for everything you've done, but I think its best if we go our own ways, I'm almost of age—"

"Oh rubbish! You're 15. You are still a child," Ted snapped, "and look at what happens when you go your own way. Getting into fights, hanging out with those—" he gestured towards the door.

Cassiopeia bared her teeth, glaring fiercely at him, "Those people are my friends. They've looked out for me."

"Clearly." Ted said drily, gesturing to her face. "Some friends. let a 15 year old get kicked in the face." Cassiopeia flushed red, Ted continued on, talking over any retort she may have had, "You are young, clearly rebellious, and angry. You've always been independent and we have always given you a lot of leeway. That has clearly been a mistake. How long has this been going on Cass? The potions, the curses, the fighting and Merlin knows what else you've been up to. Talk to us; help us understand so we can help you. Because whether or not you choose to believe me, we do love you, and we care about your well being."

Cassiopeia sighed, throwing herself onto a chair and sulked, scowling in frustration. "Look." She started, her voice low, "I tried ok. I really tried to be a good person. I—" she ran her hand across her face and her shoulder slumped in resignation.

It all came out then, once she started she found she couldn't stop, she explained to the Tonks about her struggle with potions, her interest in curses, and she touched a little on her issues with Glynn, leaving out the most incriminating information. That was a secret she was saving as potential leverage against him.

The Tonks listened quietly, letting her speak without interruptions and she felt a great relief when she finally laid most of her cards out on the table, the burden of keeping track of her half truths mostly lifted.

"So what now?" she asked, feeling exhausted. Ever since her potions withdrawal she found she was nearly always drained, but so far her nightmares had not come back to plague her.

"Well, we picked up all of your school supplies, and term starts in a week. I had hoped to bring you home, but it appears you have some loose ends to tie up around here," Ted glanced at the door.

"I can be back in a few days, if that's alright." She said hesitantly, still uncertain whether they still wanted to continue their Lestrange rehabilitation experiment.

"That sounds grand, we'll get your room all set up." Andromeda briefly rested her hand on top of hers, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Cassiopeia twitched, allowing the touch to happen, but not quite ready to return it.

"You are not off the hook of course. You are grounded for the next year, no arcade visits, no pizza deliveries, and no new records. I am confiscating your bicycle and when you are home I expect you to pay us back for all the money we spent paying for the things you stole from that corner shop, with interest. And I expect you do this with your own money and not money from the Lestrange vault. And all this business with curses is done. If we so much as suspect you are dabbling in dark magic we will be having a chat with the proper authorities. If I hear that you have so much as gotten into one fight while at school, we will cancel Christmas. I mean it; I will be in contact with Professor Snape periodically to make sure you are behaving. I expect you to do nothing this year but to study for your exams, no Hogsmeade trips and no attending quidditch matches. We are also informing Professor Snape about your potions habit, so he will be watching you carefully. I think that about covers it, right 'Dromeda?"

Cassiopeia didn't have much choice but to reluctantly accept those conditions.

She returned home a few days later, having said her goodbyes to her friends, promising that she would write them and stay in touch. She spent her final two days of the summer locked in her room, packing away her stuff for another school year. It seemed like a long time since she left, the summer dragging on from one crisis to another, and she dreaded facing her classmates, but there was nothing she could do but to hope that she would be strong enough to ignore the gossip and the rumours. She had O.W.L.s to study for and at least she was blissfully free of distractions, with no boyfriend and no friends to speak of.

Nymphadora was icy to her at first before settling into a routine of just plain not acknowledging that she existed. She was still angry with the girl, but she couldn't fault her. Cassiopeia did genuinely deserve her wrath, so she took it as punishment for her accidental cursing incident. It wasn't long before she was back on the Hogwarts express, stuck sitting in the luggage cart after she was unable to find any compartments that would take her, listening to music and reading a book.

She just hoped the next year passed quickly, without any major problems.

A/N _So i hope you enjoyed this chapter, I tried to keep it brief, feeling like spending too much time on her journey to the muggle world would detract a little from the story, so I thought id tell it from the Tonks point of view. I would also like to remind everyone that Cassiopeia is 15, and therefore filled with all sorts of hormones and teenage angst. It might be a little overwhelming sometimes, but she is just a kid still, a teenager trying to figure everything out and stubbornly refusing to see help. Is it cringey to read and to write? Perhaps a little... but arent we all cringey people at 15? Thinking we were all grown up and capable? We will be going a little quicker through the next year and as ever reviews are appreciated._


	18. Chapter 18: Fifth Year Solitude

Nobody would sit next to her at the table. Few even acknowledged her and when they did; they would quickly look away and turn to whisper to their friends. Her life became an exercise in patience and self-control. She looked no one in the eye as she walked, instead staring straight ahead, her face carefully blank as her ears picked up the whispers. She shrugged off any rogue spell cast her way, carefully side stepping or re-directing the magic but never retaliating. She was quiet in classes, only answering when call upon and was always succinct in her responses. She stared at her food when she ate in the great hall, always alone, with the seats around her conspicuously empty of other students.

She clenched her teeth, tightened her hands into small fists, and flared her nostrils whenever she felt the urge to lash out. She would take a deep breath, glare at the offending party, and would walk away. It took all of her will power to overcome her hot flashes of anger, especially when she was especially tired, but the threat of expulsion hung over her like a dark cloud. Professor Snape also clung to her like a leech, always appearing just when she thought she would lose that fine thread of control. Seeing him, and seeing the sneering disappointment on his face when he was forced to walk away without punishing her made her self control almost seem worth it. Spiting him brought her a small measure of satisfaction, and her life as it was, she couldn't be picky.

As she always did when she was upset, she threw herself into her studies, spending long hours tucked away in the back of the library. Without her potions she found herself falling asleep intermittedly during her longer sessions, and though she didn't quite have the stamina to keep up with her previous workload, and she realised that she was ok with that fact.

She slept naturally, far more than she had ever slept in her life if she was being honest. She carefully warded her bed every evening, with a spell she designed to specifically ensure no one would be able to come near her and that any sound she made would be private, and so far she was pleased with the results.

She received a package early into the term from her guardians, she read the short missive saying they found it in a muggle bookstore and thought she might find it helpful, and carefully unwrapped the parcel wondering darkly what they could possibly mean. She scrunched up her nose and scoffed, shoving the book in her bag after the shortest glance at the cover.

It was a bloody self-help book, some tosh about mindfulness. She scowled into her breakfast, eating as much as she could stomach, drank the majority of the carafe of coffee, and went to her first class of the day.

She was in a rotten mood for the rest of that day, her mind travelling back to the offending muggle self help book in her bag. Her lip curled whenever she thought about it, and she huffed angrily. And yet it sat there, in the back of her mind, just at the edge of her thoughts, mocking her.

She went to bed early that night, casting her usual wards, and reluctantly opened the damned book. She just wanted to see what type of rubbish it held within, just so she could satisfy her curiosity. Her lip curled as she read, and yet she found she could not put the book down.

As ridiculous as it was, she found she could relate to certain…emotions the book described. Flashes of rage, irritation, and violent outbursts, she recognised the feelings the book detailed. And yet she found the book completely insulting and nauseatingly saccharine in its platitudes that everything was going to be ok, and that with mindfulness came inner peace.

After reading it through the second time she tossed it away with disgust and threw herself into bed with a huff. Her mind raced over the techniques the book suggested, things such as breathing, and touch awareness and rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of such methods of dealing with stress and anger. She tossed and turned a few times, her irritation causing her to be restless and sighed deeply before reluctantly closing her eyes. She was going to prove to herself that the book was rubbish, so she thought about one of the techniques she thought would be least likely to help, personal awareness.

She started at her feet, taking a deep breath. Her feet were crossed at her ankles, she could feel the weight of her right foot as it lay atop her left, she felt the worn cotton against her legs, her knees and thighs rubbing against each other, and her arm tucked under her torso. She felt warm, and her hand was already going numb from her body weight. She felt her head against the soft pillow, her breath blowing back at her as she pushed her face further into the fabric. She felt her teeth clenching, and her lips touching. They were chapped. She felt her eyelids and the wrinkling of her nose. She focussed on her breathing, controlling it and slowing it down. She felt her muscles, the tension in her shoulders and her scowl and slowly relaxed them. She listened to her surroundings, taking in the silence caused by her charm, and she opened her mind a little more, feeling the distant tickle of her magic providing a protective barrier. She felt the weight of the blanket settling on her and sighed deeply, consciously trying to empty her lungs of as much air as possible, she breathed in again slowly and it wasn't long until she drifted off to a reasonably peaceful slumber.

The next morning she convinced herself that it was just luck that she slept so soundly, and that of course she drifted off after doing the mindfulness exercise. She had been lying in bed, obviously that was the logical conclusion. So with a huff she continued on towards breakfast and her classes.

Yet she found herself uncomfortably aware of her anger as time passed, she could feel it rising and recognised the symptoms and the subtle warnings her body gave in the build up to a fit, the book had been very accurate in its descriptions of anger. Whenever she felt the familiar building of her temper she would just close her eyes and focus on her breathing, on unclenching her muscles, and cast her mind to whatever piece of coursework she was working on. It seemed to work, at least enough for her to not engage in any fighting.

The fact she had not cursed nor punched another student as time passed was a testament to the efficacy of her breathing technique. She endured being knocked into, her coursework being sabotaged, her things being stolen, and one student even went so far as to spit on her, right in the face. That moment had been the closest Cassiopeia came to breaking, her fists clenched and she screwed her eyes shut, taking deep breaths to contain the rage she felt.

She heard the laughter around her, the guffaws of her classmates who were pleasantly surprised to see her spit on. Breathe in...1,2,3,4,5,6...Breath out, 2,3,4,5,6. With every breath she imagined pushing the blood curdling, heart thumping rage being pushed into a small bottle deep in her chest. Every breath compressed her rage, and after a few moments she was able to raise her wand, not to attack the impudent witch, but to calmly siphon off the offending bodily fluid.

She breathed through their abuse, putting her wand away, and managed to walk away from the jeering crowd, her head help up high, her back straight, and her rage contained. She almost managed to tune out the names they called her, that they whispered whenever they saw her, the names that echoed through her head when she was alone, or when she let her thoughts wander. Cassie the cunt, deranged Lestrange, Cass the cocksucker. Those were the more imaginative ones, but the less inspired were the run of the mill, slag, cow, and her personal favourite, the bitch butcher.

She pushed more and more of her anger into a container she imagined deep in her chest, she filled it and compressed it and focussed on the present, on her course work, her upcoming O.W.L.s, and on her bloody breathing.

Glynn's rumours were alive and well at Hogwarts, and Cassiopeia had nearly weekly confrontations with boys from all houses who seemed to magically and suddenly be able to look past her infamous heritage so they could get up her skirt. A large part of the rumours that Glynn spread was that she was a loose girl who practically threw herself at him. She was saved from hexing a boy who tried to get a peak up her skirt by Professor McGonagall who had been livid at the offending student and very rightly dragged him off away from Cassiopeia's wrath.

The whole incident of course happened to take place in a corridor, in front of the very Ravenclaw group of sixth years who propagated said rumours. When she was certain the professor was well away she turned on the group of laughing boys, her eyes zeroing in on the one that made her stomach turn and her rage flash, and pointed at him.

"A word, Gambol." She ground out coolly.

"Alright." He called, making no move to leave his friends, a smug smile on his lips.

Breath in 2,3,4,5,6 …..and out

"In private."

"Whatever you have to say you can say in front of my mates. That is unless you had something else in mind," his leered at her, sending a filthy wink her way as his friends laughed.

And in 2,3,4,5,6 out 2,3,4,5,6. In and out, breathe in and out.

"I think that what I have to say about certain-ah-activities you would prefer to discuss in private." She clenched her fists and ground her teeth.

Breathe in and out.

"Oh I see." He grinned at his friends before walking into a nearby empty classroom, holding the door open for her while winking at his friends.

She rolled her eyes, disgusted, but nevertheless entered the classroom, quickly warding the door as he shut in.

"You're not looking so good Cassie, I see you've gone off your potions. I can keep making them for you if you like. Obviously for a small payment." His voice was smug as he leaned casually against a desk. She stayed near the door, putting as much distance between them as possible to keep her sanity.

He mistook her silence for interest and continued, shifting slightly as his eyes grew heated as they roved over her body, "what's some time on your knees after all compared to a good nights sleep," he smiled lasciviously, leering at her chest.

"You're a pig." She remarked, pulling her robes tight against her.

His lip curled into a sneer, his gaze sharpening into something greedy, predatory, "you never complained before." He hissed.

"You come near me with your dick and I promise you I will cut it off. My mother may have neglected to teach me that exact piece of knife work, but I'm sure I can figure out how to do it without killing you. I was rather good at our lessons." She said softly, glaring at the boy who was now a few shades paler, his mouth gaping.

"What? Did you forget who my mother was? You said it didn't matter, that you could look past that. What did you think being the daughter of the Lestranges would mean?" she was calm as she said it, leaning against the door now, staring down her ex boyfriend and his stupid handsome face.

Breathe in and out. Deep breaths, bottle the anger and disgust.

"You're lying." He said hoarsely, looking slightly green when she only raised her eyebrows in challenge.

"Regardless of what my parents may have taught me in my misspent youth, I did not ask you in here to discuss your castration. I wanted to discuss a nugget of knowledge you have about my personal life. A piece of information that would be in your best interest to forget."

She could see his brain working, trying to figure out what she meant, she also saw the ghost of his earlier smugness return, though his face was still slightly pale. "Your curses. They'll expel you if they ever found out. Destroy your wand, especially when I tell them how you just threatened me."

She nodded, shrugging. He was correct but he was missing the bigger picture. "Yes, I would be expelled, maybe even put into Azkaban for a bit when if they found out that Dora picked up one of my objects and was cursed. It worked exactly as it should have in case you were curious, and I was obviously able to break it. But…"

She paused, and gave him a cold smirk, enjoying the way his face faltered once more, "I'll tell them to examine your wand, and what will they find Gambol? A certain curse that carries a life sentence perhaps? You keep my secret and I'll keep yours, you can continue on in your pathetic life, and I can continue with mine. Are we clear about that?"

He was glaring at her now, his face still pale, his mind working over her threat, trying to find a flaw in her reasoning. He soured when he was unsuccessful and finding a way out of his predicament, and so he agreed with a jerky nod.

She took out her wand, noticing with a small smile that he flinched slightly and released the wards on the door.

"Cassie the cunt, you do know that you'll never do better than me? Who would want you? Deranged Lestrange?" he sneered.

She paused at the doorway. Breathe in and out. In and out. Wrestle the anger, the hurt, compress it, in and out, compress on the in, release the tension on the out.

"Remember dear, I don't need magic to use a knife. And I wasn't joking about the things my mother taught me. Her skills were legendary, look it up if you don't believe me."

Naked fear flashed across his face, chilled to the bone by the sober and even tone she took.

"Go fuck yourself!" he called weakly as she left.

She rolled her eyes and kept walking, all the way back to her dormitory, to her bed, where she pulled the covers up to her neck, curled into a little ball and cried. She cursed Glynn; the way he made her feel—equal parts revulsion and desire—and she wallowed in self-pity, angry at her weakness when it came to that infuriating boy.

Even worse, her threats to him had cost her dearly. She was not lying when she spoke about the things her mother had taught her, and now that she was thinking about it again, she found she couldn't stop. All of the lessons she was taught started to come back, slowly, at the most inopportune times, when she was cutting into her dinner, or during her potions lessons. She reckon she could castrate Glynn rather easily, and the thought made her stomach turn in shame and disgust.

Her nightmares were coming back.

Xxx

Despite herself self-proclaimed want for solitary independence and her attempts to drown her negative emotions with schoolwork, Cassiopeia found herself feeling unbearably lonely. Nobody in the school spoke to her, her classmates only acknowledged her to insult or belittle her. She had no friends, whenever she was paired up in class with some unlucky soul; only the barest practical mechanics were discussed.

It had been months since she had a normal conversation with anyone. She found it difficult recalling when was the last time she laughed, or told a joke but she suspected it was the summer holiday. Professor Flitwick always tried to engage her in conversation, but their discussions were focussed exclusively on theoretical charms. And while she found it intellectually nourishing, emotionally they did nothing for her. For the first time since she had been back in the wizarding world, Cassiopeia found herself feeling truly alone, and more than a little lost.

She spent her first few years trying to be someone that deserved the Tonks name. She hid from the negative facets of her personality and tried to bury them under layers of half-truths and ambitious personality changes. She let her muggle born and half blood friends change her, and she twisted herself into knots trying to appease Glynn, and now free of all of those constraints and motivations, she was stuck feeling empty and uncertain; she hated it.

When it came to deciding whether she was going home for the Christmas holiday, Cassiopeia agonised over her decision, weighing the pros and cons of going to the Tonks or even to the Malfoys for the holiday.

She knew it would make Ted and Andromeda happy if she went home, but she wasn't sure she could stand their well meaning, but ultimately annoying and unsuccessful attempts at making everything seem normal for her. And Nymphadora was definitely going home, and the idea of spending any time near her made her stomach twist unpleasantly with guilt and shame. Nymphadora deserved some time with her parents, without fighting with her.

Going to the Malfoys' would have hurt the Tonks' feelings, something she didn't feel quite comfortable doing, and she also did not particularly want to spend a few days let alone weeks with the couple. She had been reading their letters, but had yet to respond, all keeping her abreast of the scandal caused earlier in the summer. It was dying down definitely, but was lingering unpleasantly. She knew if she went there that would be all they would want to talk about, and the less she thought of the Gambols, the better off she thought she'd be.

Her decision was ultimately made when she saw the short list of students remaining in her house, the number being less than a dozen total. That meant she would be a very low chance of seeing anyone, and being at school meant she had the whole library at her disposal.

She had a different research project in mind for the library however, a morbid curiosity she couldn't shake once she stumbled upon the newspaper archive section of the library. She had hurt her adopted sister terribly, and though it had been an accident to curse her, it still happened. But Dora was far from the only person she had hurt, there were dozens of others, people whose faces were seared into her memories, into her nightmares, with no names and no life in part because of her.

Cassiopeia didn't feel like she knew herself because she hid from these facts, she hid from the shame of her past actions, and she figured the Christmas break would give her the perfect opportunity to confront her demons, and the nightmares that would surely come, without being witnessed by anyone.

She kept a file filled with copies of relevant articles. Inside were clippings from the wedding of her parents, the obituaries of her grand and great grandparents, and her birth announcement, a tiny paragraph hidden away in the back of the society pages.

Bellatrix Black was rarely in the news when she was younger, there was a brief birth announcement in 1951, and then nothing until her marriage in 1970, she was 19 years old, to Rodolphus, her father, was 21. She stared at the article on their wedding for hours, looking through the photos in the society section of the newspaper. It was a well-attended wedding, upwards of 300 guests, many high profile and prominent members of the wizarding world. She tried to analyse the body language between her parents, both so young and wildly different from the people she remembered. They seemed softer somehow, and distant from each other, each smiling politely at the camera, going through the motions, making the correct poses, but not with the sincerity that Cassiopeia witnessed in other couples.

She knew their marriage had been arranged, her Uncle Lucius had told her as much the previous summer, and she knew her existence was not born out a love between two persons, but as a duty to create more purebloods. But seeing their relationship in pictures was stark, and she honestly did not recognise the people in the photo, they were missing something, and she wondered just when did her parents become the people from her memories, from her nightmares.

The longer she read the more she found she couldn't stop, her morbid curiosity growing in equal parts with her grim determination. She followed the rise of the Dark Lord in the newspapers, the early disappearances of witches and wizards, and the subtle changes to the ministry over time. She was riveted, reading detail after detail of different Death Eater skirmishes with the ministry, different raids, arrests, and deaths. She read all of the obituaries she could find, taking in the details of their lives, their achievements, and those that they left behind. The Death Eaters did this, and she wondered how many of these people were killed by her parent's wands?

She began recognising faces in the paper; faces of missing peoples that she knew met their end at her childhood home. She had seen them there, so dirty, bloody, and broken in their dungeon. She could still hear their cries, their begging, echoing through the halls at night. She remembered their screaming, and how it would end abruptly with a flash from her mother's wand. And it was always her mother who dealt with the prisoners. Her father she recalled would disappear for the night and return bloody, often with his brother, her uncle, in tow.

She was obsessed, forgoing meals and sleep as much as possible to continue in her search for answers. It was on Boxing Day when she found the article detailing the first raid her mother took her to. It was the first time she had cast an unforgivable; her eyes were glued to the article. The Prophet reported brief obituaries for the muggle casualties. She broke into a cold sweat as her eyes found him, the elderly man her mother had caught for her to practice on. Her mother had broken his legs to prevent him from fleeing far as they worked.

His name had been Herbert Graves. He was 64 years old when he was killed; he was on holiday when they happened upon him. Two children and four grandchildren survived him. She had cast a Cruciatus curse on him, over and over again because her attempts had been weak.

She closed her eyes, her mind taking her back to that night, the panic and confusion she felt when her mother took her, the smell of the fires burnings and the cries of panicked muggles. She had tried, really tried to cast the curse correctly. She remembered her mother's arms around her, adjusting her grip on the wand, whispering words of encouragement and advice. She wanted to hurt the muggle because she knew it would make her mother happy, and maybe even a little proud.

She remembered watching the life leave his eyes as her mother killed him, the frenzy of running from the aurors, she remembered how his body had been broken and abandoned, thrown away like he was an object and not a human being.

It had been almost 10 years since that day, and she spared not one thought for that man and the shame of that burned her. She had a role to play in his death and she didn't even have the courtesy to learn his name until now. She wondered what his children were like, how old they were? What did the muggle authorities tell them? Did they know how agonised his final moments were or were they fed a pleasing lie. Did he have more grandchildren now?

She needed to know all of that and more. She craved to know the name and family history of every person she had ever hurt, seeing Herbert Graves' obituary created a new hunger, a burning need. She had hurt these people, she was partially responsible for their deaths, it was the least she could do to at least know their names and who they left behind.

Term started and her research project consumed her, it demanded her attention above all else, including her O.W.L. work. She wasn't sleeping anymore, every time she closed her eyes she would see the people she hurt, she could still hear their screams and feel their blood, warm and sticky, running across her hands. It made her sick, and more than a few times she woke up dry heaving, covered in sweat, and with a knife in her hand ready to attack. If it wasn't for her heavy silencing wards around her bed she was certain that her screams would have woken up the whole house.

Caffeine no longer had any effect and she loathed going back to taking potions for her problems, having learnt her lesson from the last time she did that. She was exhausted, struggled to keep her eyes open in classes or at breaks. She would begin to nod off only to wake up in a state of sweat and shock, her heart racing and adrenaline pumping. She couldn't concentrate on classes; her mind was so focussed on replaying her worst memories over and over again.

Her professors were worried. She understood that. A few, Professor Flitwick and McGonagall even questioned her, asking if everything was alright. Professor Flitwick frowned after she wasn't even capable of casting a simple charm in class, something she normally excelled at. She was pale, nauseous all the time, and twitchy.

Sometimes she felt as if her head of spinning and she had to grip the table to make sure she didn't fall out of it. She had shrugged them off, averted her eyes, and ignored their questions. She offered excuses, up late studying for her O.W.L.s, that she had a thumping migraine, and promised them that she'd go to the hospital wing for some potions. Instead she went straight back to the library and her file.

The only thing that kept her awake was the file of newspaper clippings. She carried it everywhere, worried someone would find it if she left it unattended. She obsessed over the file, reading and re-reading, trying to understand how she could have done such terrible things, and trying to figure out if she could ever do anything to make up for such a despicable past.

Occasionally she would stare off into space, in the middle of a dull class or at dinner and wonder if she even deserved to be there. To be at Hogwarts, to live in the dorms, to even have a wand. She remembered the man from the Ministry, Crouch, telling her all those years ago that she was probably guilty of something. Accusing her of crimes that he had no idea she committed.

He had been right, he had wanted to lock her up with her parents, put her on trial, to punish her for perceived wrongs. He may not have known definitively that she was a bad witch, but he was right. She hurt everyone she came into contact with. She had accidentally cursed her sister, had proven that she was a real Lestrange to her adopted parents, she alienated her few friends, and had even attacked her oldest friend. She was poison to everyone around her, and only attracted other poison.

She fantasized about going to the Aurors, turning herself in. Explaining that she had cast unforgivables as a child, and deserved to be locked up. Maybe they would put her in a cell next to her mother. Maybe they would just give her to the dementors.

She shivered, thinking about what it would be like to have her soul sucked out of her body. She wondered if she would finally be at peace.

She fantasized about one day being at peace. She wondered how it would feel, to fall off the astronomy tower or her broom. She thought about taking a load of sleeping potions, or lacing her coffee with amanita mushroom extract. She wondered at the reactions of those around her if she ever were to go through with any of her plans. She thought the Weasleys would be the most upset, but she darkly thought the Tonks would be secretly relieved to be rid of a nuisance such as her. She thought most people would, that she would no longer be a burden to anyone anymore. And that she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again.

Professor Snape snapped her out of her latest reverie, as she was fantasizing about the best ways to find her peace. The classroom was empty, having long since finished she realised, and he was standing in front of her desk, calling her name. Eventually it was physically grabbing her that shocked her back into reality. Her heart raced and her palms sweated as she was brought back into the present. Professor Snape did not look pleased, his face was pale, his eyes burning, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"Miss Tonks. We need to talk. Now." His voice was quiet, laced with anger.

She blinked and shrugged, fighting off a fresh wave of exhaustion.

"Much as I dread the answer, I feel it is my duty to ask, what is wrong with you? I've seen disembowelled toads that look better than you do. Other professors have told me your grades are slipping, you're never aware of your surroundings in class, and you do not appear to be sleeping or eating." He sounded exasperated.

She shrugged again and looked away. Wishing for the first time she still had her long hair to hide behind.

"I don't think you understand. That was not a question, it was a command. I have something called a duty of care. In other words I am responsible for your well-being so long as you are a member of my house. You will tell me now what is ailing you so I can waste my time deciding whether or not I can help you fix it." His voice was hard.

She gazed at a spot on the wall over his shoulder and shrugged again. It appeared she was a burden even to him. His lip curled into a snarl as she refused to acknowledge him, or even look him in the eye.

"You are being childish Cassiopeia Tonks." He hissed.

She glanced at him quickly before looking away. "You can't help me professor because you wouldn't understand. You couldn't possibly even begin to understand." She muttered, shrugging again.

And how could he? How could anyone understand the whirlwind of shame, guilt, and the undeniable truth that she was exactly what everyone thought she was? How could Professor Snape understand she was upset because she had been party to so much pain and death in her short life thus far? The only people that could understand felt no remorse for their actions, and were locked up in Azkaban.

He hissed, "If you told me what it was then maybe I could judge that." His teeth were clenched. She shrugged lightly again.

It appeared to be one shrug too many. "Get. Out. Now" his voice was low and cold in anger. She shrugged one last time, gathering up her things, and began to make her way out of the room.

David Riley had been her second victim. He had been 45 years old, a recently discharged RAF veteran, who had just bought a shop with his wife. He was out with mates to celebrate the upcoming birth of his third child when they came upon a group of Death Eaters. She had been better this time; she had successfully cast the Cruciatus curse. His little girl was born a few weeks after the incident.

She made her way back to her dorm room, eager to get back to her research project, needing to learn more about the people she hurt. She had been mailing various muggle newspapers, asking for archival copies of muggle newspapers for certain dates. She used a wizarding forwarding service to receive the copies, and had received a parcel that very morning that she finally could open.

She warded her bed after carefully closing her covers and brought out her research file before opening the thick envelope. The paper had sent her a few weeks worth of papers, and after a few minutes of searching she found what she was looking for. The muggle story on the disappearance of a young man, the cousin of a prominent muggle born politician.

Gerald Cambry had been 24 years old and on his way back from football practice when he was kidnapped. They had brought him back to the Lestrange Manor, she remembered waking up and being dragged down to his cell. He had been nice, still wearing his muddy football kit under a tracksuit, his hair was sandy brown with green eyes. He knew nothing of the wizarding world, thought his cousin worked in an office as a desk clerk. He had no idea that she was the Deputy Head of the Department of International Magical Co-Operation.

She had learned to use a knife on him. It was hard at first, the sight of his blood had made her retch, and her mother had soothed her, telling her it was perfectly normal, and that with time she would overcome her biological reaction. She had been right of course. He was the first person she had ever directly killed; she had cut a little too deep, severing an artery. He had bled out before Bellatrix could repair the damage.

She rushed from her bed to the dormitory toilet, locking and warding the door as she entered, feeling a now familiar set of tremors run through her body as nausea set in. She remembered the panic she felt as blood that had been slowly oozing became a veritable gush, the warmth staining her hand and the front of her robes. She remembered stumbling back in shock, her hands shaking and her body frozen with panic. The blood gushed in spurts, in time with his heart beat. The metallic smell of blood had made her sick then, and the memory made her sick now as she emptied what little food she had managed to choke down during breakfast. Bellatrix had held her hair then, had rubbed her back in soothing circles and had whispered words of encouragement. She had been proud, and had turned her mistake into a learning opportunity, teaching her daughter about the location of major arteries and organs in the human body.

Another muggle had appeared shortly after her mistake, Barbara Forrester. She had been taken on her way home from church. She had been Cassiopeia's first success, under Bellatrix's careful tutelage. She had managed to use a knife on her without accidentally killing her for almost a week. Dehydration took her in the end. She had no family, a widower. Her death hit Cassiopeia harder than the others, because nobody in the world mourned her passing, so she took it on herself to mourn her, to remember her.

Her nightmares were filled with blood and glinting knives. The cries and whimpers of her victims, and the soothing hand of her mother, helping her through her emotions were juxtaposed across her subconscious, her body filled with conflicting feelings.

Xxx

She had difficulty locating the identity of her final victim. She had been a witch. That much she knew, a muggle born. She was young, and it was near the end of the war. She read through the articles leading up to the end of the war, and still couldn't find it. She knew she had gone too far when she reached the Death Eaters trials that happened after the war. She paused to read the trial coverage, looking at the names and faces of people half remembered from her childhood.

She read the charges, mentally adding a few more of her own that she knew they were guilty of. The trials were big news, and the prophet published fairly full transcripts of each one. Most of the Death Eaters managed to weasel their way out of a full life sentence, pretending to have been cursed or offering out information for leniency.

She stared at the article that detailed her parents own trial, her own mother's proclamation echoing off the walls, the Dark Lord would rise again, and they would be waiting for his return. Her stomach curled unpleasantly, wondering if that were true, and whether she would find a way out of Azkaban one day. She was just about to give up and go back a few months to continue her search when a name stuck out on one of the pages laid out in front of her.

Severus Snape.

His name was listed as a Death Eater who was arrested shortly after the Dark Lords fall, but offered no more details. She searched with renewed effort, her heart quickening, trying to think through the possibilities.

Snape knew her parents personally. She had always wondered whether he had been a victim, or perhaps a class mate, but she had never suspected him as a Death Eater. He worked at Hogwarts, how could he be?

There was no trial for him, or at least not one that the Prophet reported on. She searched, carefully skimming every article for any mention of his name. It was during his search she came across the picture of the witch she had been initially looking for.

Samantha Grimsby, aged 19. She had been an auror in training, fresh faced from Hogwarts, and a muggle born. She had been taken to send a message to the Aurors, and give warning to other muggleborns with high aspirations. Nobody was safe and nobody could protect them. Her mother had tortured her; lifting whatever information she could from the poor girl. She made Cassiopeia watch, explaining in great detail every spell she used, the reasoning for the usage, and advice on how to best cast the spells. She had gone through how to pace the information gathering sessions, how to be careful about long term mental effects that could ruin a target of any useful information, and the importance of healing and general basic care. It did you no good to have your informant die she said.

When the Dark Lord deemed Auror Cadet Grimsby no longer useful, her mother had a more practical lesson in mind. It was the one and only time Cassiopeia attempted to cast the worst of the unforgivables.

Her mother had explained the theory behind it, how similar it was to the Cruciatus the spells efficacy was tied into emotion. To successfully cast it, one had to mean it, to truly want the target to meet its sticky end.

The Auror Cadet had been defiant until the end, her face swollen beyond recognition, her body covered in cuts and bruises, bones twisted at abnormal angles, and in what must have been a huge amount of pain. And yet she met Cassiopeia's eyes, her gaze was fierce, and very slowly spat as much as she could at the child's feet, her saliva mixed with blood.

Cassiopeia's hand shook violently, her face pale and she was mortified. Her mother placed her hand over hers, on the wand, and gave her a warm embrace, humming lightly in her ear. Cassiopeia closed her eyes, trying to imagine the Auror Cadet as someone else, something else, and focussed on her mothers embrace. She leaned into it, took comfort for it, and found the required emotion in her own shame and self-loathing.

A green jet shot out of the wand in her hand, hitting the young woman directly. The girl's battered body was thrown back into the wall with some force, the colour leaving her skin as she fell into oblivion. Her mother had wasted no time in snatching her wand back from her daughter, before stalking over to the witch and casting a complicated series of spells.

She pouted as she read the numbers hovering in the air, giving the vital signs of the young auror.

"Admirable first try Cassie, but she is still alive." She said, giving her daughter a bright smile. It was unnerving.

"You did however cause enough damage to her organs that her death will be inevitable, and very painful." She paused, cocking her head to the side, thinking something over, "Perhaps we can return her to her muggle family, watch them try and save her with their foolish muggle technology."

And so they did. She spent a week in the muggle hospital, the doctors successfully bringing her out of her coma only for each organ to fail, one after another. It was a painful drawn out death. When she did eventually pass, the Dark Mark was cast over the muggle hospital, causing panic and fear across both the worlds.

Her mother had celebrated with her that night with a small feast with a large selection of desserts. She gushed over her daughter, telling her how proud she was, and how much she loved her. She remarked happily that she would be a powerful addition to the Dark Lords ranks when she was eventually of age. His enemies would tremble before her, and she would be one of his most ruthless and skilled Death Eaters. Her birth was a gift to him, she had said. She had been made to be his loyal soldier and her parents going to help her every step of the way. She would teach Cassiopeia finesse, while her father would eventually teach her brutal efficiency as a tracker. Cassiopeia had eaten greedily and basked resplendent in her mothers praise, accepting her words and plans hungrily, seeking any type of acceptance and love from the woman.

Her legs ached from sitting so long at the wooden table that was tucked away in the newspaper archives. Her heart was heavy and her stomach rolled with self-loathing and revulsion. She had celebrated that death; she would have done anything to make her mother happy, even ending someone's life. She looked at the picture of the young Auror in training and felt crushing guilt and disgust when she thought of her role in the young woman's fate.

What right did she have to sit at Hogwarts, alive and well, with a family that cared for her? She had taken that from Samantha Grimsby, a witch who was better than Cassiopeia in every way. She had witnessed the worst moments of her life and she had done nothing to stop it, quite the opposite in fact, she had been the one to cast the final blow. And she didn't even do that right; she had just caused more pain and more sadness for her family. What right did Cassiopeia have to continue living, being happy, or even content when she had ensured that Auror Cadet Grimsby did not?

She deserved to be in Azkaban, next to her mother. She deserved the dementors kiss and not the warm bed and safe environment that Hogwarts provided. She deserved to die a most painful death, to atone for the pain she had caused in the world.

She hunched over the desk, her hands shaking and tears clouding her vision. She sobbed silently, pulling at her short hair, and lost in the memories that she had spent years repressing. She wasn't going to hide away from the truth, doing so was denying all of those people she hurt justice. What could she do to make it better? To atone for her actions as a child? She felt alone, angry and ashamed, and unbearably sad. It overwhelmed everything else in her life, her coursework, her stupid fight with Glynn, and even her O.W.L.s. What was the point anymore?

She sniffed, using her wand to siphon the tears off the desk and coughed quietly, setting her notes to rights. Crying over the past was also not going to help her, only action would. She began clearing up the papers, putting them to rights back in their archive. She paused when she saw an article with Professor Dumbledore's face, looking tired and grim.

It was a piece about his part in the war, his shadowy organisation that led an underground resistance when the ministry fell, and how he was the one wizard the Dark Lord feared duelling. She read it, the reporter obviously not the largest Dumbledore fan and was instead a ministry loyalist to boot, expressing a healthy dose of scepticism that it had truly been the efforts of a mysterious organisation that brought down the Dark Lord, and not the efforts of those in the ministry who remained loyal. The writer reported with some alarm that Professor Dumbledore was even protecting known Death Eaters from their sentence.

Cassiopeia sat back in her chair dumbfounded. Dumbledore was protecting Death Eaters? Why would he ever do that? She stared off into space, pondering the odd accusation when it suddenly hit her.

Merlin she was dull. Snape. Snape had been a Death Eater, but he must've at some point begun working with the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore protected him at the end of the war. That was how he had his job.

She knew what Death Eaters did, she knew what sort of crimes Snape would have committed. Maybe…but that would be too much wouldn't it?

No, she decided. She wouldn't go to Snape; the man hated her and would gleefully send her away she was sure. He was always looking for an excuse to. She would solve this alone.

Days passed and her self torment continued. It was late at night and Cassiopeia stood at the top of the astronomy tower. Class had long finished and yet she found herself strangely transfixed by the night sky. It was a cold night, bitterly so with a wicked wind that howled through the windows, but she didn't mind it, quite the opposite in fact. She looked out across the grounds, and stared over the edge. It was a long way down that was for sure, and she wondered how long it would take to fall.

"Beautiful tonight don't you think?" a soft voice interrupted her morbid curiosity.

Her fingers tightened reflexively on the edge of the window and she stiffened.

"It is a fair night." She said noncommittally, refusing to look at the intruder.

The man came to stand beside her, his half moon glasses catching the moonlight as he sighed, looking up at the stars.

She stood in silence, fidgeting with her silver bracelet softly before sighing. "Why are you here Dumbledore?" she finally asked

He smiled gently down at the girl who he could see was having a hard time. "I was having a delightful stroll when I saw you here looking rather lonely. I confess I have been rather concerned about you, along with all of your other professors." He said softly, before turning back to the stars.

She scowled deeply, looking back over the grounds, her eyes following the Threstrals as they flew through the night. They stood peacefully together, each lost in their own thoughts, Dumbledore humming softly to himself.

"They're beautiful aren't they? I always found Threstrals quite graceful." He remarked, cause her to glance at him sharply.

"You can see them?" she asked

He smiled sadly, staring off into the distance, "I have been unfortunate in my admittedly long life to have seen such tragedies. But witnessing the Threstral is a small gift to come out of sorrow."

Her scowl deepened and she scoffed in disbelief. "Why am I here professor?" she asked quietly, the words tasting sour on her tongue.

"Do you mean why are you here, as in standing at the astronomy tower? Perhaps it is the beautiful night that drew you here, or the tantalising view and all of its possibilities that come from such heights. Or do you mean why are you here at Hogwarts?" he asked lightly, still looking away.

"Why am I not in Azkaban? You know better than most that I deserve to be." She ground out bitterly, glaring ahead of her, her fingers digging into the ledge.

"Ah—we do not put innocents into Azkaban." He said simply.

She snorted, giving him another sideways look, "I have a whole pile of newspaper clippings showing I am far from innocent Dumbledore. I have hurt people, I even killed some, and yet here I am. In this bloody school instead of where I should be."

"I should have known, all those hours in the archives," he smiled down on her sadly, "you have been torturing yourself over past crimes you perceive as yours."

She felt her temper rising in response to his infuriatingly calm demeanour. He wasn't hearing her, he didn't understand, of course they were her crimes.

"Shall I show you Dumbledore? The things I did?" Her voice was cold, malicious as she embraced her anger, jumping into the well that she had been building in the core of her chest, pulling on all of her repressed emotions and rage. She allowed it to soothe her anguish and melancholy, she felt it rush through her veins.

She pulled out the newspapers and one by one threw them at his feet, explaining in agonising detail every single facet of her crimes. She spared nothing as she painted a vivid and gory detail, her face twisting more and more into something hateful and monstrous the longer she continued. Dumbledore looked older, his lines pronounced and his eyes were filled with naked sorrow and pity as she told her story. She took glee in this, wielding her words as a knife to twist into his chest, trying to make him feel a fraction of the pain she was feeling.

She didn't know when her anger changed, it was a blur both figuratively and literally as her eyes filled with tears the longer she went on. Her voice was breaking and her chest was heaving. Her hands shook and she barely finished detailed the demise of Auror Cadet Grimsby before she gave into the sobs. She pulled at her hair and leaned her body against the ledge of the tower, wildly thinking that she could end it, all of her pain and hurt right then and there. If she just shifted her weight just so—

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder as Dumbledore carefully pulled her into an embrace. She resisted, fisting his robes and trying to push him away. She didn't want his bloody comfort, she wanted his condemnation, she wanted him to tell her that she was evil and did deserve to be in prison. She wanted him to expel her and put her where she belonged. But eventually exhaustion won out and she stopped fighting him, her cries taking all of her energy.

"You were just a child Cassiopeia, doing your best to survive. You wanted your mother to love you, as any child would, and you did what you could to achieve that. What would have happened if you disobeyed?" he asked, gently patting her on the back, his voice grave.

She shook her head, refusing to answer, "I made a choice, the easy choice." She sniffled instead.

"You made the only choice a child could make in your position. If you had not done as she asked you would have been the victim. The only one that is at fault here is Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange for using you as a weapon. And of course Lord Voldemort. You are as much their victim as Auror Grimsby or any of the others."

She tried to pull away once more, wiping her face, her voice hoarse as she asked the question that had been plaguing her for weeks. "But why do I get to live when they all had to die."

Dumbledore kept his hand on her shoulder and he leant down to look her directly n the eye, his voice very serious, "We do not get to choose who lives or who dies, but we can choose what we do with our lives. If you want to honour their memories then study hard and use your life help people. Going to Azkaban now does nothing to help them and is wasting the gift that is given to you as a survivor. Think of all the people you can help as a curse breaker? Save people, prevent future victims, and be a good person is how you atone for the crimes that you perceive. Maybe even one day you'll understand what I do, that you are not at fault."

She shook her head, he didn't understand. He was so obnoxiously optimistic it was almost disgusting. "How can I just move on, be a good person when I am inherently not? Merlin Dumbledore all I do is hurt people, even when I am trying to not be like them. I can't sleep, I can't eat, and all I can hear is their screams." She pulled at her short hair again, tugging on the longer curls on top of her head.

"Some awful memories have a way of consuming the mind and the soul if we let them. They erode away at who we are and leave nothing but a husk behind. There are methods to combat this, to take control of our minds when they try their best to send us into insanity. We can teach you these methods. But that is a conversation best left for another night. For now I suggest we drink some hot cocoa and make our way to bed. " He sounded tired, his face was lined with sorrow.

She sniffed, slightly confused when a steaming mug of hot chocolate was pushed into her hands and she was gently guided away from the astronomy tower ledge and down the many stairs to the ground floor.

Dumbledore stayed with her the whole walk to the Slytherin common room, her quiet companion as they strolled through the peaceful corridors at a lazy pace. She thought over what he said, trying to find sense in it all.

"Did you mean what you said sir? About having a way to handle the memories?" her voice was small as she took another hasty sip of her chocolate.

"It is an obscure form of mental magic called Occlumency. Professor Snape is highly skilled in it and I am sure would be willing to teach you."

"Professor Snape hates me sir." She said immediately, her heart dropping.

Professor Dumbledore glanced at her, a small smile on his face, "You and Professor Snape have much in common. I think you can learn much from him."

They had reached the common room entrance by now, and he turned to her once more. "Help is always given to those who ask for it Miss Tonks. If you wish for it, I can speak to Professor Snape about setting up lessons, if you are willing to try."

She flushed, "and if I prove to be too much of a Lestrange?" she asked quietly, voicing her deepest fear.

"Then we will deal with that slim possibility. Blood doesn't make the witch Miss Tonks. Your aunt is a great example of this. Andromeda was a Slytherin through and through, from the same childhood and background as Bellatrix Lestrange, and yet the two couldn't be more different." He gestured to the common room, a serene smile on his face once more.

"Rest, I will speak to your head of school in the morning. I am sure an arrangement can be made." And with that he wandered away, his inane humming echoing around the hallways.

xxx

A/N _So i agonised over this chapter, probably rewriting it three times and i am still not entirely happy with it, but so it goes. As always reviews are always welcome, shout out to_ _brnicholas for his insights which I always love to read, and to a new reader Beesy :) Danke Shoen !_

 _I think Cassiopeia is going through a little bit of surivors guilt and is finally acknowledging her past in a way she never has before. She never really had to look deeply into her actions because she was either in crisis mode, like when she was in foster care, or she was desperately trying to change everything about her to fit in with friends and boyfriends. This is the first time she isnt trying to impress anyone or be someone else. Hench why it is all hitting her at once._


	19. Chapter 19: OWLs

"Before we begin I want to make something abundantly clear Miss Tonks. I do not like you. I do not trust that you will become a productive member of wizarding society. I see too many similarities between yourself and your parents. You have your mother's deadly precision in spell casting and your father's brutish temper, and a penchant for rebellion born out of arrogance that is reminiscent of both the Lestranges and the Blacks. Adding to that you are a sharp, powerful witch who is both extremely clever and dangerously curious. I think the headmaster is a fool to not recognise these qualities in you. As it stands, however, he has asked me to help you control your mind, and so against my better judgement, I shall do so.

Occlumency is an ancient art, not very well known nor practiced though invaluable. Its purpose is to protect the mind from invasion of an enemy, someone skilled in another branch of magic, Legilimency. However we are not as concerned with protection from penetration than we are the natural consequence of this skill. You must learn how to tightly organise and separate your memories, emotions, and thoughts.

I will break into your mind and you will attempt to stop me. To do this first you must clear your mind of all thought and emotion. If you do not, I will see what you are thinking, and I can delve deeper."

Cassiopeia's mind reeled as she tried to take in all of the information being thrown at her at once, processing his insults, and understanding something about him that now seemed obvious. Snape always could see right through her, and now she knew why. She also thought back to moments in her childhood, with the Dark Lord rummaging through her mind, and with the odd presence of Dumbledore attempting unsuccessfully to shield a portion of her memories.

Snape did not give her time to prepare however, not really, "On three. One, two, Legilimens" he pointed his wand at her head and she was instantly knocked back into the memory she was just thinking on.

She was in a dark room, the only light coming from the burning embers of a fire that had long since gone out. She felt cold fingers wrapped tightly around her jaw, intertwining with her curls on either side of her head. She could feel the wizard's nails biting into the skin behind her ear and her head throbbed with an unbearable pressure. She was panting in pain as she felt like her brain was trying to escape her skull, she distantly felt wetness dripping from her nose, covering her mouth and chin, staining the wizards hands. He was staring at her intently, with horrible red eyes, and the longer she held his gaze the more the pressure built but she couldn't look away, her body didn't obey her silent cries to close her eyes, she was powerless in his gaze. Finally the throbbing reached a crescendo as a white-hot pain flashed across her visage, temporarily blinding her and a flood of memories burst forth.

She was with the Weasleys, suspiciously sniffing her food. She was hiding in an airing cabinet while listening to voices outside the door, she was eating a biscuit that the Weasley matriarch cooked, furtively stuffing some in her pockets for later. She was running away and shouting the Dark Lords name, the memories whizzed past at a blurring speed and that combined with the pain made her stomach roll and her ears ring.

As suddenly as it happened it was over. She stumbled back a few steps, clutching her head in agony as the man in front of her casually sipped from a tumbler.

 _Stay_ a voice whispered in her head. She was rooted to the spot.

"Dumbledore's protection is nothing compared to my power, and you, little Lestrange, have been keeping important secrets." The man hissed.

His voice sounded far away, and her ears filled with a buzzing sound. She clutched her head again, feeling as if something was off. Where was she? Why was she seeing this? She felt a whisper of something in her skull, a gentle tickle that sent chills across her skin and made her twitch. Something was wrong.

She was back in the Hogwarts classroom, her heart was racing and she was covered in sweat, and in front of her stood her Head of School, his earlier malice absent from his face. Instead he stared at her curiously, lost in thought.

"You can see all of that." It wasn't a question; she said it dully, rubbing her head, the memory of his presence still causing her to twitch uncomfortably.

"I see you are no stranger to Legilimency." He said softly, eyeing her carefully. "You are correct. Everything you see I can see. If you do not like it," his lip curled, "then learn to close your mind."

"How?" she asked irritated. "You say close your mind, but you give no instruction on how? Am I meant to just know?" she ran her hand through her hair, tugging on the longer

"Clear your mind of any thoughts, or create a distraction." He waved his hand, "everyone has their own methods. Find one that suits you." He held his wand once more, preparing to cast again.

"Legilimens."

It was a recent memory; she was talking with Glynn in that abandoned classroom. She felt the anger burn through her at his suggestion she trade sexual favours for potions. She felt the tickle in her head again, it was like an itch she couldn't scratch, a burning such as the warning one received before sneezing. She tried to focus on that, trying to isolate where it was in her brain. She shut her eyes to the memory, of her threatening him with castration and a lifetime in prison. She knew it was a memory, and she knew it was Snape. He fought her, slipping and sliding out of her mental reach easily, relentlessly playing the memory through

He finally withdrew from her ming, his sneer firmly in place as he glowered at one of his least favourite students.

"Bloody hell man, at least give me time to prepare." she grumbled, her face twitching in irritation as she felt the remnants of his presence scratching in her skull. "And before we continue we must speak about my memories."

"Language Miss Tonks." he barked immediately, "And for you information, unfortunately memories are not permissible in the Wizengamot. Needless to say any rule or law breaking I may witness will regrettably stay between us." Snape continued, looking deeply disappointed by this fact.

"And the headmaster?"

"Shall get a full report obviously if it is pertinent."

She scowled, weighing the pros and cons. He had already seen much, more than she ever wanted anyone to see. Her mind was filled with terrible things, this she knew, and she felt it was in her best interest to perhaps warn the man about what he was getting into. She was going through this humiliation in the first place because she was plagued by the images in her brain, she wouldn't wish it on another person, even one she disliked as much as Snape. But first, she had to be certain that it was going to help her.

"Did the headmaster explain to you why he requested your tuition?" she asked carefully, watching the man closely.

"You are plagued by night terrors." he raised his eyebrows and gave her a look that spoke plainly how he felt about this. He clearly thought the headmaster was overreacting.

She swallowed, trying to find the words to explain to him the finer points without giving too much away. If they continued, he would see, eventually. They needed to come to an understanding before then. She had to trust him, at least a little, in order to confide in him. It made her stomach twist unpleasantly at the thought.

"I have awful memories, thanks to my parents." her voice was small as she folded in on herself a bit, rounding her back and wrapping her arms around her torso, staring intently at the ground, away from his prying gaze.

"I spent years pushing these things to the back of my mind, trying to forget. I started to confront these memories, and they have since plagued me. I can't sleep, I can't eat, and I am struggling to find the will to continue along in my current trajectory. The headmaster thought that, I dunno, that learning to organise my mind might help? I cant see how yet, but if you are going to be digging around, I just…" she pulled at the curls on top of her head in irritation, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. "I just want you to know what you might see." she finally looked up at him, her eyes shining, her voice only slightly above a whisper.

"I know you were one of them." she confided softly, ignoring the way his face clouded with anger, his lips pursing into a tight line. "I know you must've done something for Dumbledore, assisted somehow in the war to get him to vouch for you. You must have been very brave, to defy him. You know what they do, and you know what he is like." she closed her eyes, her face twisting in anguish. "I cant get them out of my head Professor." she finished, slumping in defeat, her hands angrily twisting her silver bracelet.

She felt drained having confided now, at least partially, to another person. She figured the first two mental invasions was also playing into her exhaustion.

Snape was silent. She was afraid to look at him.

The silence continued.

Finally, "Occlumency gives you control over your own mind. How you use that control is up to you. It is not unheard of for one to use this skill to deal with unpleasant memories." his voice was low, his face carefully blank once more.

"Enough for tonight." he turned on his heel abruptly, taking a few quick steps to one of the many bookcases lining his walls, his hands running along the spines of several volumes before pulling a few out. "Read. Come back prepared." he thrust the books into her hands.

She took his dismissal seriously and scurried out of the classroom as fast as she could.

Their lessons continued nightly. She had studied the volumes he had given her, tried to understand the techniques described within, and practiced them. She was familiar with some of the concepts from her own practice in mindfulness and worked hard to improve and increase her awareness of her surroundings and her place in them.

She was getting rather skilled with her physical mindfulness exercises, but she was still lacking significantly on her mental awareness. She spent at least an hour, often more, sitting on her bed with her eyes closed, trying to map her inner mind.

It was difficult at first, to try and bring order to her swirling thoughts and emotions, memories fighting for attention, and she struggled to clear her mind, to become the blank slate Snape so often told her she needed to be. She decided to try something else. Something she read in that stupid muggle self help book.

She built a mind palace.

Her palace was less of a palace and more of an impossibly tall, crumbling victorian tenement building. Inside was a labyrinth of winding hallways, with hundreds of rooms, some interconnected while others were isolated with only one entry. The lower floors were for her day to day thoughts and memories, mainly dealing with subjects around her coursework and Hogwarts. The lower floors were well lit, with wide open corridors and unlocked doors.

The further up she walked in her mental building, the darker and dingier it grew. It was reminiscent of her last group home, with filth lining the floors and staining the walls. Here she stored her anger and resentment, her violence unifying memories of fights, curses, and petty acts of rebellion.

The uppermost floor loomed into the sky, the air growing thinner making it hard to breathe and some rooms were bricked shut. There were no lights in her upper floors, and trapped within a dizzying maze of hallways and dead ends were her darkest memories. Fear, shame, and self loathing lived up there, with each victim of hers gaining a room dedicated to them alone. She kept them there, their memory in warm shrines attached to torture chambers. Those rooms had doors that always opened when she walked down the decrepit hallways, the memories beckoning her to revel in the pain and sorrow, enticing her to drown in her guilt.

Other doors were bricked shut, their contents too dangerous for her to even create an imaginary avatar for. Her parents lived there, her fondness and love wrapped and warped by hate and shame were locked away. They whispered to her, insidious thoughts of violence and terror, wrapped in a sweet poisonous allure. It had felt good to cast those spells, it had felt good to be in her mother's embrace. She swelled with pride when her mother approved of her performance, and she nearly wept when she said she loved her. Here her father called to her, telling her he was so proud of how she dealt with the other girls in the group homes, and offering advice on how to track down all those who had wronged her. She revelled in the feeling when he said he was pleased with her, affirming that she would one day grow to be a fine addition to their cause. He was going to teach her, when they were released from prison, all that he learned as a young man. How to track, as he had done for the Dark Lord. It was his turn to impart his wisdom and he relished the day.

She spent as little time as possible in even the central floors of her mental building, preferring to cover herself in the tosh of the lower floor. Those were her safe memories, ones that she didnt mind anyone seeing, they were harmless, and shallow.

Snape was relentless however. Pushing and pushing, always finding a way past her carefully constructed barriers. He timed himself, making a game out of how quickly he could ascend to the uppermost floor of her mental tenement building. She tried to build traps, mazes, and dead ends into her mind, things to slow him down and convince him it wasn't worth it. He saw through these easily, overpowering them with barely a thought, charging straight to the top. He reluctantly acknowledged that she was improving, making defenses that he could actually feel and acknowledge, even though they were weak. He kept telling her night after night that she was too obvious in her mental structures. That he knew she was hiding something.

He saw awful things, her being punished by her parents, he felt her pain as the cruciatus ripped through her, and her father manhandled her in public. He saw her alone and hungry, forgotten in a dark room as a very small child, he saw her pinned under the last guardian, his foul breath wafting over her face as she struggled to fight him, desperate for her knife, he saw the fights amongst the other children, the emaciated child attempting to strangle her in the middle of the night. He saw it all, and never commented on the memories contents, his face blank, his words dealing only with her failure in defending herself against his mental invasions.

So she tried something else . A decoy.

She attached a feeling she received from a memory of when she saw her mother approaching her in a shop when she was young. She knew, in the pit of her stomach, that there was going to be problems. She had been right, the shop keeper had been maimed in the encounter. But the particulars of the memory were not important, the feeling was.

She meditated on the emotion she had felt that day. Dread, fear, humiliation, embarrassment, guilt. She took these emotions, and attached them to another memory, hoping Snape would take the bait.

That night when he tried to break into her mind, she put up a huge resistance, fighting him off, and trying to keep him away from the one memory she had attached the false emotion to.

Sensing her fight he ignored most of everything else in her mind, zeroing in on the moment that caused her so much alarm, embarrassment, and trepidation.

He punched through her weak defences like nothing, playing the memory over for himself.

She was in a salon, in a run down charity shop that was attached to a public works building. The building was covered in graffiti about a woman name Maggie, and were not very kind to her, whoever she was. She was in a creaky plastic chair, wringing her hands nervously as a woman who was covered nearly head to toe in bright, colourful tattoos pulled and prodded her hair, a pair of scissors on a counter near by.

The woman looked sceptical, frowning at the nest of curls she had been given. Cassiopeia fidgeted nervously in the chair, very conscious of the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she had not combed or applied any product to her hair in recent memory. As it stood her curls had turned into a matted mess, with detritus littered throughout from a few nights of sleeping rough.

"Im afraid its too far gone to save…" the tattooed woman reluctantly said, pulling on a length of hair that was nearly completely dreaded, with bits of dirt and leaves stuck inside. "You just have to get rid of most of it. If you like I can deal with it today, it will be shorter, but not so much that it will be a shock.

Cassiopeia sighed, her shoulder slumping in defeat. She wasn't particularly attached to her curls, they had always just...been. She shrugged reluctantly.

"Mate. You just have so much hair, I think it'll be quite a relief to just chop it off honestly. I was thinking we can maybe cut it fairly short on the sides, leave a few bits up top to be all floppy like. It'll be wicked."

Cassiopeia shrugged once more, indifferent now.

She watched as her began cutting large chunks of matted curls off her head, watching in a bizarre fascination as they dropped to the floor. The woman kept up a steady stream of chatter, completely uncaring that the girl sitting in front of her remained silent, just listening and thinking.

Her head felt light. That was the first thing she noticed. And she looked different. She still had her almost too square jaw line and black piercing eyes, but they were no longer hidden behind masses of hair. True to her word, the woman had cut nearly 80 percent of her hair extremely short, measuring on a few centimeters from her sides and the back of her skull. The only curls she had managed to save was a half of dozen or so inches on the very top of her skull. These curls flopped to either side, gaining extra bounce from not being weighed down from excess hair.

She looked different. A casual observer might not even realise she was the same person, something that would be useful in her current situation. More importantly, Cassiopeia realised for the first time in her life that when she looked in the mirror she did not see her mother. She saw a new person who was a stranger. It was liberating.

Snape pulled out of the memory with a scoff, his face a deep scowl that darkened when she shot him a cheeky smile.

"I see you have changed tactics." he said stiffly.

"Yes."

He hovered for a second, before turning on his heel to head to his bookcase once more.

"Decoys area good way to hide memories you do not want me to access."

She grew better with every passing week, and most importantly the lessons were having the effect the headmaster anticipated. Re ordering her mind, compartmentalising and organising it so helped her quarantine her most feared memories. She was able to examine them when she needed to, normally in remembrance of her few victims, and was able to lock them away again. Her nightmares stopped, she was able to clear her mind and focus on the day to day tasks required of her.

Her relationship with Snape changed as well, he was still surly and sharp with her, but he was also quiet company. No one in her life knew what her childhood had been like, she had never told anyone. But Snape had witnessed it, parts of it, and it almost seemed like he understood.

The change happened after he witnessed her first bloody memory, the day she accidently killed Gerald Cambry. She didn't fight him when he happened upon the memory, instead going numb with shock and horror as it replayed in front of her, vivid in its details. She was mesmerised by the blood, the bright scarlet, the smell of iron and human odour turned her stomach, and her skin crawled as the warm blood oozed over her hands and down her front.

She was sick, losing the contents of her dinner over the stones of the potions classroom and breaking his concentration. She hastily tried to clean it up, fumbling with her wand and dry heaving as the after effects of the memory lingered. Snape had been silent, a small furrow between his eyebrows as he dealt with the mess and pushed her gently back into her chair.

He remained silent, letting her cry and try to recenter herself. He offered no encouragement or consolement, he just leant against his desk, folded his arms across his chest, and waited patiently. She almost didn't feel the gentle brush of his magic against her surface thoughts. He had been quick and efficient gathering what information he needed rapidly before withdrawing, apparently satisfied.

He was respectful in her tears, looking at the ground instead of directly at her, and he waited patiently. Finally when she was under control he said softly, so softly she wasn't even certain he said anything at first,

"Children can go to extremes to receive the approval and love of a parent. It is up to the parent to take responsibility for their children."

She debated this fact, reminding him that she had very much been in control of her actions. She was responsible as the hand that held the knife that killed him, mistake or not. Snape listened respectfully, nodding where appropriate and frowning when he disagreed. He listened, and somehow, she felt that he understood. He accepted her explanation and her feelings with no outward judgement or revulsion.

It was a relief to talk to him. To confide in someone who knew the whole story, who had witnessed the things that haunted her in her darkest moments. And to speak to someone who did not outwardly confirm her darkest thoughts and fears. Snape didn't judge her, and the few times he spoke, it was always to remind her of her age at the time, or that parental acceptance was a powerful drug.

When he felt confident that her lessons had served their purpose he offered her a choice. She could continue, weekly instead of nightly, to hone her occlumency skills, of they could end it all there, and she could go back to keeping her secrets her own from all but the most powerful legilimens. There was still much that Snape hadn't witnessed in her brain and that fact gave her a moments pause as she quickly weighed the pros and cons. These lessons with Snape had become almost a therapy for her, a place where she could be honest and where she could be herself, and everything that was included within. But she needed to know one thing before she made her decision.

"Do you still think I am a danger to wizarding society?"

He peered at her carefully, pursing his lips as he thought carefully about his response. He pondered her questions for a few long moments that spread into a few minutes, trying to figure out both his own feelings on the subject and what words to express them in.

"I stand by most of my earlier sentiment, with a few qualifications. I think it is a testament to your own strength and determination that you have resisted committing both serious injury and a serious crime during your time here at hogwarts, given how you've been treated by your peers and your particular background. I think if you ever went the way of your parents you would be a force that would dwarf the fear and destruction they caused. I also think however that you genuinely do not want to hurt people, and when it happens you punish yourself far beyond what the crime calls for. I think you have a great capacity to help people and that you will do everything in your power to do just that, perhaps as an atonement for crimes you take responsibility for or for your family's legacy.

I think your life will not be easy, and will perhaps grow even more difficult as time passes. You will be judged for who you are, and you might be expected to rely on those traits you so obviously hate. My suggestion is to continue Occlumency training so that when the time comes, and it will come, you have the ability to hide what you have not been able to keep from me because not everyone will see your emotions as a strength, but will use them to exploit a weakness."

She sat numbly, listening to his observations and thinking deeply about herself and what she wanted out of life. One thing confused her though, "help people sir?"

He shrugged casually, "you obviously want to become a curse breaker, would that not be helping people? Though if I may, your spell and charms work might make you an asset as a healer in St. Mungos. Those things are not mutually exclusive either. Perhaps you should speak to Madame Pomfrey about that career path."

She frowned, thinking through his reasoning. She had never considered a career as a healer, seeing her strength more in destructive and chaotic magic as opposed to helping magic. But was breaking a cursed object so different from reversing spell damage? It was something to think on more when she had time.

Their nightly lessons ended, with the pair agreeing to change to weekly sessions. Snape became better at actually teaching her, going so far as to offer hints on how to better structure and protect her mind. He applauded her effort at creating order and structure in her brain, but pointed out that it was very obvious the structure.

Anyone with skill would very quickly understand the layout and see immediately that the sensitive memories were held at the top of her mental building. She needed to intersperse painful and compromising with shallow ones, wrapping them in banality so the attacker would grow bored. And for memories that were too risky or incriminating to ever discover she needed to create hidden floors, buried deeper than anyone would ever feasibly think to go, hiding them cleverly within her existing structure. How she would do it was ultimately up to her and was not something he could comment on, as each mind was highly personal and attuned to the person. No two minds were alike and what worked for one user would not necessarily work for another.

He would test her defenses, tell her where and why they failed, but could not help her prepare them.

It was frustrating, but it was also mentally stimulating. It provided her something to work on and think on to fill her time between classes. It was a welcome distraction from her loneliness, so she buried herself in the work. The next time she met the Dark Lord, or her parents, and she felt deeply that one of those two events were going to happen, she would be ready.

Easter holiday came and she decided that she would go home to the Tonks household. Nymphadora had not been happy with her decision, and made this very obvious throughout the holiday with tense and awkward silences. Cassiopeia spent most of her time in her room, still grounded from her antics the previous summer, listening to her music and studying for her O.W.L. examinations.

She wasn't sure her adopted sister would ever forgive her, and she wasn't certain whether she even deserved forgiveness for accidentally cursing her, but she was pleased with what little progress they made over the decidedly awful holiday.

It came a few short days before they were to return from term, with Cassiopeia quietly asking the name of a particular artist Dora was listening to. The girl scowled at her suspiciously, before reluctantly answering. Cassiopeia nodded, writing down the band name to look up later. They were good, and she said as much to Dora who seemed surprised to have anything in common with her cousin.

Another breakthrough came when Dora reluctantly approached Cassiopeia with her own leather jacket and pictures of her favourite wizard rock band in her copy of Warlock Rage, a monthly alternative fashion and music publication aimed at teenagers.

"Can you help me with this?" she asked, her face pursed like she was sucking on a particularly sour lemon.

Cassiopeia gave a small smile, slowly putting down her things to look at the offered jacket and the pictures, thinking through the best way to transform the jacket into something similar to the one the rocker was wearing, without magic. She nodded slowly, her brain whizzing with a few ideas.

It was an uneasy peace between the girls after that. They weren't friends, and they each preferred not to be around each other or acknowledged, but they did not openly hate each other any more which was a definitely step.

Xxx

She sat in Professor Snape's office, fidgeting with her bag and looking around nervously. She knew she wasn't in trouble, and yet she couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was up to something unpleasant when it came to her.

He scrawled lazily on some papers in front of him, and without looking up from his task he threw a few pamphlets in her general direction. She frowned as she examined them, utterly confused. They were career brochures, marketing nonsense aimed at glorifying various career pathways. She had one from the ministry detailing their curse breaking program, and one from Gringotts bank, detailing programs for their wizard employees.

"I have taken the liberty to choose those pamphlets that are most related to your intended career trajectory. Regardless you NEWT examinations will be the same. I would draw your attention to the third pamphlet, detailing a special independent study program." he sniffed, crossing something out on the paper in front of him viciously.

"Professor Flitwick has advised me to advise you that he would happily supervise a two year independent study course for you, in magical theory." he scowled, spitting out the man's name hatefully, still glaring down at the paper in front of him.

She peered curiously at the other pamphlet, detailing a self led program offered at the Pre-NEWT and NEWT level for independent magical research study in the students choice.

"It is a risky course, the grading entirely subjective and the topics are subject to approval by a highly conservative board from the ministry. Do not make any decisions immediately." he warned, flipping the page in front of him.

"You will need a NEWT in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms obviously. To achieve this you will need an E in Professor Budge's defence course, though an O would be preferable, to safeguard against any staffing changes that may occur. I too only take O grades into my N.E.W.T. course, however for the rest, simple E's may do." He sounded bored as he rattled off the grading requirements, still making the paper in front of him rather aggressively.

"And if I want to do this independent study professor?" she asked curiously, eyeing the pamphlet. His quill paused for a moment as he let out a long suffering sigh accompanied by an eye roll, "ever the over achiever, your course load would be unusually large, something that may risk achieving the sufficient grades to advance into the future career. I suggest you speak to Professor Flitwick about it directly, and inform me of your decision by the end of the year. You must submit a topic by the end of term. The ultimate decision will be made over the summer following a review panel at the ministry. You may be required to be there in person." he warned, looking up at her briefly before looking back at the papers in front of him.

She nodded nervously, gathering the documents and putting them in her bag. "Thank you Professor for your time." she said respectfully, taking his silence as a dismissal. He grunted in response, telling her to send in the next student.

Xxx

Her O.W.L. exams came and went, and Cassiopeia found most of them challenging but not beyond her ability. She was confident that she achieved the sufficient grades needed to advance to the correct NEWT classes.

She had been quite pleased by the examiners reactions to her charms and defence work, asking her to perform more and more complicated spells, far beyond what the curriculum or examination called for. She only faltered when they asked her to cast a Patronus, a spell she had never attempted, and in the end could not produce.

She still received a round of applause when she cast a particularly impressive concealment charm that made the examiner almost entirely invisible for the duration of the examination. They eventually had to break the charm since it lost none of its power over the course of the two hour examination. Her examination went a little longer than normal as her and the examiners got lost in a particularly in depth discussion about theoretical magic work, and spell diagrams. Professor McGonagall had to interrupt the exam when they ran over 30 minutes over, much to the disappointment of the examiner she was having the particular conversation with.

"An absolute pleasure to meet you Miss Tonks!" the man said enthusiastically shaking her hand, "and thank you for such stimulating conversation. I do hope you consider an independent study, and with Filius-er Professor Flitwick as an advisor- I am sure it will be cracking. Might I ask what career path you are looking into taking?"

"Mr Spavin, please, there are other students-" Professor McGonagall protested, her face turning red. The man just waved her off, smiling broadly at a now blushing Cassiopeia.

"Er- curse breaking sir." she said meekly, fiddling with her wand.

"An excellent profession!" he proclaimed, "that is sure, however if I may, you might want to consider the charms department at the ministry, or at St Mungo's where I, myself work. Oh yes, alright Professor… Pleasure once more!"

She and Professor Flitwick had many discussions after class about her pursuing an independent study, and after much deliberation, they finally agreed on a topic that was potentially management, while still being wildly ambitious, and would keep her busy for the remaining time at Hogwarts. Professor Snape's eyebrows rose as he took in her proposal documentation, giving it a once over in the last few days of term.

Then he shrugged, tucked it away, and promised he would submit it to the proper authorities, and warned her to remain within reach of the Owl post for the review panel.

With all of her major responsibilities completed Cassiopeia felt strangely light and hollow, mindlessly wandering around the school and the library, trying to ignoring the other students celebrating the end of exams with their various friends and partners.

A/N _sorry its taken me forever! I have been away travelling and working for a few weeks, and am still away for at least a week more, but i thought id get this up for you guys! enjoy!_

 _tibys_


	20. Chapter 20: Review Panel

It was July before Cassiopeia received her OWL results with Ted setting the envelope in front of her with a certain levity at the breakfast table. Cassiopeia swallowed her cornflakes painfully, eyeing the letter cautiously, overtaken by a sudden dread and fear. What if she failed a subject? What if she misremembered something vital. She remembered leaving her examinations quite confidently, but what if it was the confidence of a fool who hadn't even realised they'd butchered the whole subject?

She was worried most for her examination in potions, something she needed an O in to advance to the NEWT course, and she also was a little concerned about her decision to drop many of her courses a few years earlier. She had no backup plan, not really, she needed to pass every course she was examined in to continue in the career that she wanted.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, she knew upon her 17th birthday she was going to be granted unrestricted access to the Lestrange vaults, and there was more than enough money in there to survive quite comfortably for the rest of her life. But she didn't want to be a rich, lazy heiress… she wanted to be a contributing member of wizarding society.

"No use in being afraid now," Ted said softly, smiling at the petrified girl, "you can't change the results in the envelope."

She felt sick.

"Want me to open it for you?" Nymphadora asked quietly, looking at her terrified cousin with pity. She remembered all too clearly her results coming the year previously. She had to have her mom open it.

"Would you?" Cassiopeia squeaked, staring at the envelope, her mouth suddenly very dry.

It was all very ridiculous she knew, being so afraid of something so innocent as a results letter. She had faced and witnessed a great many terrible and terrifying things in her life, and somehow this was the thing that froze her into inaction in terror? It was absurd.

But being absurd didn't make it less real.

She watched Nymphadora closely as the girl snatched the letter from the table and opened it. She held her breath and tried to read her facial expressions as her eyes flitted across the contents.

"Well?" she asked, irritation colouring her voice as she felt Dora was taking too long.

"You passed all of your exams obviously…" she said, smiling at her adopted sister.

That wasn't good enough. She figured she'd pass, but did she do well enough to advance?

Impatient she snatched the letter out of her hands, her eyes roving over the contents greedily.

Charms … O

Transfiguration….E

Defence Against the Dark Arts...O

Ancient Runes...O

Potions...O

Arithmancy...E

Astronomy...E

She melted into her chair, relief flooding her system. She had done it, she had bloody well done it. Even potions, she wasn't sure she would be able to pull off a high enough grade to advance in Snape's class.

The Tonks' were so pleased with her grades and her general progress on the behavioural front that they finally agreed to lighten her punishment and allow her to leave the house unsupervised again, on the condition she be explicit in where she was going and was always back by their set curfew. Cassiopeia accepted their terms greedily, desperate for any sense of independence. It had been hard staying cooped up in her room and she was keen to get out of the house.

It was another few days before she had heard back from the ministry about her independent study. She beamed having received her provisional acceptance of her topic and study programme. The ministry letter was followed by a personal letter from her head of house, a short missive stating he expected her to be practicing privately over the course of the summer on their lessons, and informing her of her provisional class schedule and list of supplies needed.

"What'd you do to receive personal tutor lessons from Snape?" Dora asked curiously, apparating into the chair beside her suddenly. Cassiopeia scowled, clenching her fist tightly around her letter and pulling it away from her adopted sisters prying eyes.

"Dora, I swear to Merlin if you keep doing that I will not be held responsible for punching you again." she growled, looking to the Tonks' for support.

"She has warned you Dora, just because you can use magic out of school now doesn't mean you should use it for every which way. There are literally 11 stairs between your room and the dining room." Andromeda remarked while placing a plate of food on the breakfast table.

"But muuuuuum…" Dora flopped back into her chair dramatically, throwing her hand over her forehead in mock dismay, her hair growing longer and curlier as the syllable was drawn out. "I am positively famished over here. Wasting away! I couldn't possibly make it down those stairs with so little energy. I need more fuel now that i'm working on my physical training." she pouted theatrically, giving her mother sad eyes.

Andromeda rolled her eyes, "Dear, apparition takes more energy to go a short distance than it does walking. If you're so hungry go fix yourself a plate."

"Why are you suddenly training? You don't need to lose weight or anything...have you decided to take up quidditch in your final year or something?" Cassiopeia asked, carefully tucking her letter away.

Dora shot her a sharp look, her eyes narrowing as she examined her. "Well you've gotta be more than just good with a wand to be an Auror, gotta be physically fit. I'm getting a head start."

Cassiopeia swallowed thickly, taking a long sip of tea trying to encourage her food to go down properly as she processed her words.

"An auror?" she asked finally.

"Yeah. Surely you of all people know what an auror is. You've probably even met a few I reckon. I'm applying to join the cadet programme after Hogwarts." she said unkindly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." her mind flashed to auror cadet Grimsby and her botched spellwork.

"Dont worry cuz, I promise I won't rough you up too much if I am ever the one with the pleasure of arresting you." she smiled cheekily, reaching for another slice of toast, uncaring to the sounds of disapproval coming from both of her parents.

"Cheers for that Dora," Cassiopeia said lowly, taking another sip of her drink.

The older girl gave her a wide smile and nodded deeply, as if she were accepting a high praise.

"And anyways, are we going to ignore the fact that you never answered my question? What are you doing with Snape in your free periods. Oh gross, that came out weird didn't it?" her hair was shifting rapidly now, going between multiple colours and textures, as she frowned into her food, suddenly disturbed by the direction her mind took.

"Nymphadora Tonks, that is quite enough." Ted admonished his daughter sharply.

The girl shrugged away his warning, pressing on, "So spill. Has it got to do with that independent study stuff you're doing with Flitwick?"

"Er…"

"What is your topic anyways? Is it one big one or a few small ones. Charlie Weasley, you remember Charlie, you almost beat him up two years ago? He did an independent study with Professor Kettleburn and I hear he's got a job now out on the continent now…" she rambled on, causing Cassiopeia to flush in irritation.

"Yes of course I remember Charlie," she murmured, her fingers tensing on her cutlery.

"And I knew this other kid who took it and failed the whole bloody thing, and he had spent so much time on it that he hadn't properly studied for his other exams. I think he works on the high street somewhere. He couldn't find an internship poor guy." Dora continued prattling.

"Dora darling, perhaps Cassiopeia would enlighten you if you let her. Right Cass?" Andromeda interrupted her daughter

"Er...what was the question?"

"Your classes with Snape. And your research project." Nymphadora repeated

"Oh. right. Yeah one big research project, a bit complicated, but highly theoretical. As for the lessons with Snape...Well... They're just….uh, well he's just...helping me with a few issues I had last year. Decided to formalise it I guess on our schedule."

Silence as the three other occupants looked at her questionably, waiting for her to continue.

"...So that was vague." Nymphadora finally said when it became clear she wasn't going to say more.

"Issues? What kind of issues? Should we be concerned?" Ted asked cautiously, looking at his niece carefully.

Cassiopeia flushed, fiddling with her silver bracelet and trying to come up with a way to allay their fears without revealing too much. "Yeah, I mean no, you don't need to be concerned. I was having some uh problems sleeping and concentrating because of some stuff, you know with Glynn and uh...well a few other things, but it's all grand now. Professor Snape has been teaching me a few useful tricks to help with the unpleasantness."

"He's helping with your nightmares?" Andromeda asked softly.

"Yeah, I mean I haven't had one in months, so it's been helping." she cleared her throat and fidgeted in her chair, highly uncomfortable with the topic. "So Dora, what's your backup if you don't make it into the cadet programme?" she tried changing the subject.

Dora spent the rest of the morning explaining to Cassiopeia how she was suited for an auror and she had everything they needed and more, including first hand experience with dealing with the Dark Arts because of her. It was an altogether uncomfortable breakfast .

The next day another ministry owl delivered another envelope, its contents turned what little appetite she had into apprehension.

"You've gone a bit pale there Cassie? Everything alright?" Andromeda asked in concern, frowning at her niece.

"They've pulled my provisional acceptance for my independent study. It's now a rejection pending a formal review. I've got to be at the Ministry tomorrow to defend the research at a formal review panel."

"What? Let me see that." Ted frowned as he read through the letter, "what nonsense, the panel is taking place up on the second floor committee hearing rooms. I'll take you there of course, and accompany you as your guardian." he huffed, throwing the letter down angrily.

Another letter arrived a short time later, this time from Professor Flitwick, informing her that he was aware of her rejection, and he would see her the next day at her committee hearing. He was confident that there must have been a misunderstanding about some of the finer, nuanced points of her research project, and that with some proper clarification it should pass through.

His confidence did nothing to replace the apprehension that was building in her gut.

The review panel was being held in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in what was either a large interrogation room or a small trial room, she wasn't quite sure. Professor Flitwick was there to greet her as promised, and the little man gave Cassiopeia such a bright and optimistic smile that it almost eased her fears about the whole ordeal she was about to undertake. Regardless of what happened, at least she had his cheerfulness at her side.

Ted was directed to take a seat in the back as the committee meeting convened. She was facing a high table of five individuals, one of which she recognised as being her charms examiner. The wizard, Mr. Spavin if she recalled smiled kindly at her and greeted Professor Flitwick warmly on his way up to the high table.

The man in the middle cleared his throat loudly and signalled for all to take their seats. Cassiopeia and Professor Flitwick were given nothing to sit on and were forced to stand in front of the table as if facing a tribunal.

In fact, she was very certain this was a form of a tribunal.

"We are gathered here today, the 25th of July 1990 to discuss the personal research project entitled "Mining magical data, an experimental approach to analysing spell diagrams." proposed as an independent NEWT research project in the field of theoretical Charms by a Miss Cassiopeia Meissa Tonks, incoming 6th year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The project is being supervised by Professor Filius Flitwick, and is proposed as one large thesis project resulting in a large body of written work. You all should have copies of the proposal in front of you.

My name is Mr Marcus Crowdy, chairman of this committee and representative from the Department of Magical Education. If we could introduce ourselves…" He looked pointedly down the table at his colleagues.

"Oh! Uh… I am Mr Francis Thomas, clerk from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." said a nervous looking middle aged man. Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him, trying to place him...he seemed awfully familiar.

"Professor Emeritus Phoebus Penrose, Head of the Ministry of Magic Research Committee." said an elderly wizard in tweed with large glasses that magnified his eyes.

"Ms Imelda Milliphutt, Wizarding Examination Authority." she was a thin woman with a narrow face and sandy hair.

"My what an interesting composition for this committee, hello there Mr Thomas, dont think ive ever seen a clerk on one of these before. I am Lionel Spavin, acting on behalf of the Experimental Charms Committee who could not spare any ministry based members for today. I am also head of the research department for Spell Calamities at St. Mungos. Full disclosure to this committee, I have had the wonderful opportunity to meet this young witch to examine her for her OWLs. She passed with an O naturally."

The chairman of the committee glared down at Mr Spavin, his dislike plain on his face for the enthusiastic man.

"Your potential conflict of interest is noted sir. A pity neither Blaine nor Wimple could attend. Now onto the order of business Miss Tonks, we have reviewed your documentation and initially it seemed like a valid course of research, it was appropriate on the surface. However when we looked deeper into the matter several concerns were raised about the details of your application.

Before we dig in, I would first like for you to, briefly, explain your proposal to us in a succinct manner. I have read it but I feel better hearing it directly from the candidate themself."

She swallowed thickly, looking to Professor Flitwick who gave her a bright smile and at Mr Spavin who winked at her. The rest of the committee looked bored and like they wanted to be anywhere but in that room.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Certainly. If I may ask sir, for quick clarification on my end. Would you like me to give an executive summary of the research project, or would you like me to summarise the overall project without going into the minutiae, or should I include details about the research method."

The chairman scowled at her, "I am uncertain how you could possibly misconstrue my simple request Miss Tonks, I can only guess that it is born out of insolence or willful ignorance. I have never heard of an executive summary in all my years here in the department."

Her face fell. She could feel the small man next to her straightening in indignation, opening his mouth to respond to the chairman. He was beaten by Mr. Spavin, who leaned forward to gaze down the table.

"An executive summary might be best for this audience Miss Tonks, as i'm afraid your details, interesting they may be, will be lost on most of this committee. Myself and Professor Emeritus Penrose are more than capable reading the finer points ourselves and question you accordingly." He smiled at her warmly, Professor Penrose was already buried into her proposal document, his quill scrawling notes in the margin, completely lost to the conversation around him. Mr Crowdy was turning slightly red, glaring angrily at the Charms representative.

"Right. Well, i'm not sure where to start, but I guess some background information for context is required to understand the topic.

Spell diagrams are a relatively new invention by witches and wizards in the last millennia, they are essentially written representations of visualising magic that is used predominantly in the creation of new or altered spells. Before then, we have no written records of how new magic was being created, though we have some tantalising passages in ancient texts. Interestingly, curse breakers and magic historians have been able to create spell diagrams of ancient spells that were created before the written documentation of spell creation. This suggests that its less to do with the actual creation of the spell and more to do with the human brain's way of understanding and codifying magic. Spell diagrams differ widely from culture to culture, language to language, and person to person. For example, even though Professor Flitwick here is my teacher, he and I would use very different methods to write a spell because we are different people with different influences and understandings of magic, and yet our diagrams would be more similar than say a spell creator trained at Uagadou. But for years, these diagrams were made through exhaustive trial and error study on mainly cursed or heavily warded objects, magic that outlives the caster.

As some of you well know, there was a breakthrough in the 1930s by the Experimental Charms Committee. They managed to invent a spell that creates a visualisation of the the cast spells individual diagram. It is a rather complicated bit of magic that creates even more chaotic and complicated spell diagrams, or a written representation of the magic cast.

The complexities of these diagrams has many factors. If the witch or wizard isn't the original creator of the spell, as is the case in the vast majority of the magic cast, the original creators diagram is present, but is overlain with the castors marks, be it the interpretation of the spell, the intent, the emotion, the power, even the type of wand have ways of effecting the diagram. And then we have to take into account regional and historical differences in diagramming spells, languages involved, whether the caster was using a wand, and literally every little change to the spell over time.

For even older spells, what we would consider basic magic, the spell diagrams are a multi-layer complicated mess that would take someone skilled decades to decode entirely. But it potentially provides a historical origin story of the item of magic.

My research project will be looking at a few objects that have wards cast on them, each object will be identical in every way outwardly, and each caster has willingly agreed to take part in the study by lending their magical skill. My supervisor, Professor Flitwick, will keep track of each of the objects and the details about the caster, and I will attempt to mine the spell diagram data to see if I can come up with any identifying features of the most recent caster, from simple things such as educational background, to the very specific, and highly speculated about but thus far elusive, magical signature.

This has obvious applications in the law enforcement field and in the spell reversal field."

Three of the five committee members eyes were glazed over, lost and perhaps a little bored with her brief explanation. Professor Penrose looked pensive, and Mr Spavin was leaning forward eagerly, his grin wide and his eyes sparkling.

"Brilliant topic if I must say so myself. Extremely ambitious, and yet you've managed to take a large topic and problem and narrow it down to one specific spell and a small group of diverse volunteers. Even if you do not achieve your goal in two years, something that is also very likely, you will still have ample material to write on and be examined on. I for one heartily accept this topic and look forward to reading your results, as I am sure Professor Penrose would agree."

"I remember this proposal clearly as just last week I issued my acceptance of it without the need for review. I was unaware the vote was the reject pending a formal hearing. Like my colleague, I too would be curious to read the results of this particular thesis." his voice was dry and papery, and all had to lean forward to hear exactly what he was saying.

"Yes, well there have been some concerns raised with the department on this matter that forced me to issue a rejection pending review. You have requested formal access to the ministry's collections of Revelatione Fenestras, or RF spectacles."

She nodded, "yes, the use of the RF spectacles is an essential part of my later research. As you know the RF spectacles are an extremely valuable resource that scholars and researchers have access to. They allow the user to see magic in its purest, raw form across objects. The secret to making them died out centuries ago and there are only a few left in the world."

"Indeed. As you have rightly pointed out, they are extremely rare and valuable and we don't just let anyone have access to such a priceless resource. Some concerns have been raised about your behavioural record in relation to this project."

She felt her stomach drop.

"Miss Tonks has been an exemplary student, and has not had even a single detention in the past year. I can testify to that fact and I can have the headmaster send over verification. Her conduct has been exemplary, especially in the face of added pressure from her O.W.L.s" Professor Flitwick interjected.

Her palms felt sweaty. Mr Crowdy was smirking. That couldn't be good.

"Yes, her fifth year was a clean one. Her only clean record. Tell me Miss Tonks is that the only name you've been known by?" His voice sounded smug.

"What does this have to do with her research topic?" Professor Flitwick continued, his face turning red.

"Candidates are judged on their academic ability and on their personal conduct. Especially when said student is requesting highly restricted and valuable artefacts. Answer the question if you would be so kind."

"I have been known by other names, though Tonks is my legal name." she bit out, unwilling to come out and say it.

"Well...What else then?" asked Ms. Milliphutt.

She closed her eyes, her heart dropping. It was all over, they were going to reject her. She knew it. "I went by the name Mildred Smith for a three years, when I lived in the muggle world as an orphan."

"Any other names you've had?" Mr Crowdy urged her to continue.

She made direct eye contact with him, her temper flaring briefly before she could gather it under control. "And before then I was Cassiopeia Lestrange. I changed my name for, as you can imagine, obvious reasons." She growled, clenching her fists briefly before letting out a huff of air.

Mr Crowdy was grinning like a shark now, Ms Milliphutt looked appalled, Professor Penrose and Mr Thomas were looking at her curiously, and Mr Spavin was frowning deeply now.

"And please, Miss Lestrange-"

"Tonks. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle, who is here with me. My muggleborn uncle I might add."

"Apologies, Miss Tonks, please can you tell this committee if you have ever had dealings with law enforcement, either magical or non."

She scowled, feeling the way the tide was turning. "I have never been arrested if that is what you're asking." she said, completely confident in her words.

Mr Thomas disputed that immediately. "On the contrary, if I may bring some information to the council, I have met Miss Tonks here before, when she was brought into the department under arrest back in 1981. If I recall correctly Auror Alastor Moody was her arresting officer."

Now she remembered who he was. He had been the clerk to that horrible man, Mr Crouch, the one who sent her to the orphanage. He was carrying her file, and filling in her information.

"I was never charged with a crime, and I would hardly call that being arrested. I have had no problems since with the magical wizarding authorities."

"And the muggle authorities." He looked like a shark now. She was starting to hate him.

"This is preposterous. I do not see how knowing the details of childhood events have any bearing on this girl's ability to conduct a research project. Surely we should be judging on the merit of the project and the students ability to undertake said project. The topic has been deemed appropriate by the two academic members of this panel, and her marks in her Charms O.W.L. as well as the testimony im sure Professor Flitwick, as her main instructor, should conclusively answer this problem. Any rejection at this point, and for the reasons Mr Crowdy is so clearly setting up is clearly prejudicial."

Mr Crowdy's face was turning a deep plum colour in his anger as he glared fiercely down at Mr Spavin. "This review has been called because there are concerns about the student's past and her request to use the RF spectacles. They are a priceless artefact and we can not allow just any witch or wizard in to use them, as they also can give an insight into the very fabric of the Ministry's or the school's ancient defense mechanisms. This is a clear security risk from an individual with a history of law enforcement contact and a direct relation to the most notorious and savage criminals in modern wizarding history." Mr Crowdy was panting angrily after his tirade.

She cleared her throat, "Er… I can just forgo using the RF spectacles if that is what you are concerned about. My project can be modified to not include them."

It was Mrs Milliphutt who interjected next, "Miss Tonks, if the use of the RF spectacles isn't necessary then why include them in your research proposals."

"Because they provide more raw data." Professor Penrose answered the question for her, his magnified eyes gazing at her thoughtfully. The room grew quiet to listen to the elderly professor speak in his quiet dusty voice.

"I for one have much more important things to be doing and this panel is a clear waste of my time and energy. Her school record, perhaps not ideal, has been spotless for the previous year, which demonstrates a willingness to take her studies seriously and her marks clearly indicate a capable mind. She had offered a solution to your objections, and though it would be a shame to see the loss of such an interesting dimension of this project, I do not see why we can not just approve this and continue with our day." He conjured up a cup of water to take a long sip from and leant back in his chair, obviously tired from the effort.

"Nonsense, there is no reason why this research should have to suffer because of the prejudice of one man. I see no real argument why she shouldn't have access to the RF spectacles." Mr Spavin interjected, his voice was sharp and his eyes sharper as he took in the panel.

And thus the argument continued, Professor Flitwick jumping into the thick of it, supporting Mr Spavin while Cassiopeia stood helpless.

The security concerns were plainly ridiculous, even if she could understand the wards on the school, she couldn't think of any useful avenue for that type of knowledge. There wasn't a force alive today that would attempt to break into the castle, and even if they wanted to and understood the wards, attacking them was a whole other matter.

Professor Penrose had been correct in his assertion that she was after the artefact to gather more data, and Mr Crowdy was correct that Cassiopeia had ulterior motives beyond her research. Mainly she was dying to see what her mother's cursed bracelet looked like when viewed through the RF spectacles. She was certain her mother had invented this curse herself, meaning the spell diagram would be clear of other casters influences and should give her a place to start untangling the curse. But if the fate of her independent study relied on her not using the spectacles she would continue without them. There were other ways to view the curse diagram.

In the end, despite Mr Spavin and Professor Flitwick's best efforts she was forced to modify her project to gain approval from the majority of the committee. Mr Crowdy and Clerk Thomas were holdouts, voting against her in the final tally, however she was won over Ms Milliphutt, which was all she needed.

"Know this Miss Lestrange-"

"Tonks," she interjected lightly,

"I will be watching every step of this research and will be following your future career closely. I will not let someone with your pedigree unsupervised into the world." Mr Crowdy sneered, his face still an angry plum colour.

Cassiopeia shrugged, "If you like I could send you copies of every draft from my research. I cant promise it'll be riveting, but I could always use the proofreading." she said casually, giving him a small, sharp smile.

"Oh, i'll take you up on that offer." Mr Spavin exclaimed enthusiastically, eliciting a more genuine smile from Cassiopeia.

"Of course sir, any advice, within the remits of what is allowed of course, would also be appreciated." She responded. He winked at her, before gathering up his paperwork and making a move to stand.

"Well all, this has been a delightful waste of my day. If there is nothing else, can we all get a move on?" he said, peering down the table at his colleagues, taking their nods and grunts as agreements. "Till next time Miss Tonks, always a pleasure Filius." and with that the committee hearing was over.

She conversed briefly with Professor Flitwick, politely turning down his offer to grab a cuppa in the lobby, and thanking him profusely for his help and support. He waved her off, reminding her she had his full support and the hearing was nothing more than one man's way of abusing his power to get petty revenge against her for the wrongs of others. He also warned that it would probably not be the last time something like this would happen, and if it ever did she could always count on his full support.

Cassiopeia went home feeling both deeply touched by the Professor's words ane profoundly exhausted. She put on her headphones, clicked in a new tape into her player, and lost herself in the music, at least for a little while.

A/N _sorry again for the long update, I was travelling abroad for a bit, came home and had to evacuate almost immediately due to wildfires. Just made it back to my house which is luckily still standing. Enjoy this chapter, and sorry its a little short. I think we'll be breezing through the sixth year a bit, and heading quickly into the seventh._


	21. Chapter 21: Sixth Year

Cassiopeia felt strangely hollow when she returned to Hogwarts.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but being back at the school was something she faced with a grim resignation instead of the exuberant excitement that infect many of her classmates.

Sure, she was looking forward to her independent study project, but the joy of being in the school was absent. She remembered how she felt when she was 11 years old and was finally allowed to come back to this world. She recalled the sleepless nights lost to anticipation and nerves before her first school year. She remembered being eager to come back to her friends and to learn more, to learn everything.

She remembered waiting outside of her classes, tearing through her textbooks. She remembered listening to Professor Quirrell talk to her about theoretical magics, often getting sidetracked by various tangents as he taught her. She had found those classes dizzyingly complicated and totally enthralling. She missed Professor Quirrell wondered briefly how his sabbatical was going.

All of that excitement she once felt however was gone, and in its place a resignation that this was a necessary step before she could really begin her life. It felt less like a gift to be at school and more like a prison sentence, a place that she did her time in, completed her work, so she could be released into the world.

Not that she knew where she wanted to be in the world. She had no friends, a cousin who had the lofty ambition of becoming an Auror so she could arrest her, and a reputation forever stained by her family's legacy. She wondered if the Lestrange name was so famous abroad, perhaps she'd look for work in Northern Europe, where the Dark Lord's reach wasn't as strong. She knew enough that France would also be off limits if she ever wanted to escape the judgement from the magical community.

And she wondered about the muggle world. She did make friends there, in her short time away from the Tonks home. They helped her when no one else would, nursed her through her severe withdrawals from her self medication, they clothed her, fed her, and accepted her into their squat as if she was family, no questions asked. She still kept in contact with that group, though they had moved on from London into smaller cities in the South West. She had been so desperate to escape the muggle world as a child, and now she wondered if that was where she preferred to be.

She tried to find some excitement in her coursework, chasing the previous joy of learning new things. She focussed on her coursework, going through the motions of a model student. She tuned out her classmates jeering and sneers, and spent most of her free time either in Professor Snape's office working on her mental structures, or with Professor Flitwick working on her independent study. But it all rang false, hollow. She didn't know what was wrong with her, or what exactly had changed, and she found that irritating.

It wasn't until mid way through the first term that she found the reason for her melancholy. She had messed up a potion in Professor Snape's class and he had been magnanimous enough to let her have another attempt over the lunch break, after verbally castrating her in front of the class for her failure. She was determined to get the bloody potion correct, more so since Snape had so publicly humiliated her. He had left her alone in the classroom, excusing himself so he could go to the great hall and eat.

Despite his bad temper he knew his student better than anyone else in the school, and knew she could be trusted to be left to her own devices in his labs. It was a trust he didn't afford any of his other students, but he figured if she did monumentally bollocks it up, he would be able to pry it from her mind during one of their occlumency sessions. A part of him almost wished she would manage to destroy the classroom. He smirked darkly, it would be fun to pry the secret from her.

She was concentrating deeply on the potion in front of her, completely dumb to the environment around her. She dimly heard Professor Snape excuse himself, though she didn't quite register it completely. That was why when the tinkling of breaking glass in Snape's private potion store shocked her so much that she almost dropped in too many lizard stomachs, which would have ruined the potion again. Her eyes flicked up at the offending noise and she frowned, but she was also unable to leave the potion to investigate. There were a few critical steps she had to take before it was safe to leave her brew unattended.

She continued working, keep half an eye his private stores, her frown deepening as time passed. Now that she was listening for it, there were quiet shuffles and bumps coming from the cupboard. She sighed deeply when she finally reached a rest point in her potion. She had ten minutes before she needed to begin the next stages. After setting a quick reminder for 8 minutes, she grasped her wand and went to investigate the strange sounds, wondering who was stupid enough to steal from the potions master, intent on catching them so she wouldn't be blamed. She could only imagine Snape would happily blame and punish her, he would probably make her do something awful and disgusting in detention.

Snape ate his lunch quickly and returned to his classroom intent on doing some grading and perhaps intimidating his student a little bit. He trusted her to not be an idiot and they had grown more familiar, even friendly at times. He enjoyed putting a little bit of fear back into her, it would do no good if she ever became too friendly with him around the other students. He had a reputation to maintain after all.

He slowed when he reached the door, intending to give her a little fright with a loud entrance, and also curious to see how far along she was in the potion. It also wouldn't do for her to be so afraid she accidentally blew up the cauldron. It was a particularly volatile potion she was working on. He frowned when he smelled the a sickly sweet, acrid burning coming from his classroom, immediately alarmed.

How had she botched this potion twice in a row? Was she truly so thick that she couldn't even follow simple directions? He felt his temper rising, and she had clearly just let it burn, with no regard for the cauldron that was no doubt ruined, the ingredients she had destroyed, and the time she had wasted on both their ends. He took out his wand, prepared to deal with the burning potion, angry words at the tip of his tongue as he entered the room.

His anger turned to cold horror immediately upon entering the room. His student was on her knees, in front of his private potions store room, her face red and blotchy with tears. Standing above her was the Dark Lord, looking as if no time had passed at all. His long, pale fingers hovered around her face, centimeters away from her skin, his high, cold voice was crooning softly to her, his face twisted into a cruel mockery of affection.

"You are mine Little Lestrange. You belong to me, you always will. You exist because I willed it, you were born because I demanded it. Your only purpose in life is to serve me, to kill for me, to worship me. You have strayed far from your path in my absence, but I am a merciful master, I will continue your education that your parents started, and together we will create cleanse the world of those too weak to claim power for themselves. You were born to be marked, born to be my soldier, and to please me. Everything else is just a fantasy."

Cassiopeia had her eyes closed to the onslaught from the Dark Lord, and Snape was rooted to the spot, frozen in shock, his wand hanging uselessly at his side, entranced by one of his greatest fears standing in front of him.

The form of the Dark Lord began to bubble and warp, his face morphing into that of a younger Bellatrix Lestrange. She knelt down in front of her daughter, pouting petulantly as she looked down with faux pity at her daughter. Her eyes danced with mirth and crazed devotion as she began speaking in her high mocking tone, "Oooh Casssie, did you really think Azkaban could hold me? Mummy is here, I will always be here, and I will always find you, no matter where you go or where you hide, Mummy will always be there for my little girl."

Severus horror turned to understanding as he flushed in embarrassment and annoyance at his own reaction. He was witnessing her worst fears as the Boggart shaped them into people and ideas.

"We will return to him, and you will fulfill your purpose, you will be marked as one of us, and you will do everything he bids of you. It will be glorious Cassie, you and I, on the battlefield, our foes falling before us as- BA-COCK!" Bellatrix paused, looking confused. Her lips were still moving, but instead of words, she clucked like a chicken.

"BA-BA-COCK! BUH-BUH-BUHCOCK!" she pouted in dismay and Cassiopeia finally opened her eyes to look at her mother, her mouth dropped open in shock and bewilderment.

"Riddikulus," Snape said, casting the Boggart back into his potions store, the door closing with a firm snap.

He waved his wand at her ruined potion, quieting her ringing alarm, dousing the flames and banishing away the blackened goo at the bottom of her cauldron.

Cassiopeia fell forward, pressing her cheek against the cold floor as she let her sobs play themselves out. She was mortified by her own reactions. Boggarts were on the third year curriculum, and she had not only failed to recognise what was happening, she had fallen so entirely under its spell that she had been immobolised.

Snape left her to her sobs of relief, taking a seat at his desk, suddenly very interested in the paperwork on his desk.

She took a few deep breaths, sitting back on her knees, wiping her face on her sleeve. She was grateful that it was Professor Snape of all people to find her in that state. She would have preferred for it to have never happened of course, but Snape was the only professor she could trust to forget anything had ever happened.

She coughed slightly, scowling at herself, before reluctantly looking at the mess she had made of her second attempt at a potion. She scoffed again at her own stupidity and set to work clearing it all up, her face red in anger and embarrassment.

"Er...Sorry about well-" she trailed off, looking around at the mess she had made in dismay.

Snape finally looked her, waving away her concern. "You will be here for 7 pm tonight where you will clean out that ruined cauldron, and attempt the potion one last time." he said coldly, raising his eyebrows, daring for her to disagree. She grimanced, she had been hoping to get some work done on her research project, but this took precedence.

"Yes sir." she quietly tidied up, thankful for the silence.

She almost made it out of the classroom without further incident, but Snape stopped her just before she left. She paused, looking longingly at the door before turning back to the surly man. His cheeks were flushed and he had an odd look on his face as he studied her.

"Boggarts can take witches and wizards of all calibers down if they are caught off guard. But…" he trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Forgive me if I am overstepping my bounds, but those fears, you don't truly believe that do you? That your only purpose in life is to serve the Dark Lord? He is gone and your parents are in a place they will never escape, you are free to do as you please. You do understand that?" His voice was low, his body very still, as he looked down at his papers, waiting for her to respond.

She felt the now familiar hollowness return and with it the heavy weight of helplessness settled on her shoulders. She looked at the Potions Master, he was always so careful to respect her feelings and her distance, and she appreciated that most about him. It was why she had continued her occlumency lessons with him, why she had confided so much to him in the past, in the form of her memories. He was the only person that had seen the worst of her and her life, and somehow he never judged her.

"I can't believe he is gone. I don't believe it" her voice was tiny as she spoke, for the first time, her deepest fears.

"He's out there. Somewhere. Everything I do now is just passing the time until he comes back. Until they all come back. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother indulging in this illusion that I can make my own way, when I know with kismet certainty, that I will receive his mark, and that I will be forced to serve him. It's what I was literally born to do."

Snape took in her naked fear and vulnerability, and felt her fears echoed in the depth of his being. He understood, he too knew that the Dark Lord could still be out there, in fact he was very probably still out there, and he felt the shackles of his past mistakes weighing on his person as he looked at his student. What could he say to make her feel better? Should he tell her pretty lies, knowing that they were just that? Probably lies?

"If he comes back, know you have an ally in me. You always have a choice, even if it doesn't feel like it most the time. However, until that time, if it ever comes, you should be enjoying your freedom as much as possible. Do the things you want to do, because you may not ever have another chance." he shrugged lightly, "don't let one possible future stifle you, let it motivate you to make as much of a difference as possible." He almost rolled his eyes at his own words. He was starting to sound like the headmaster. Still, it seemed to have worked a little, as she seemed to be thinking over his words. It was a trait he favoured in her, she listened to him, perhaps not always in class or during their private lessons, but when it was important, she listened.

"Do you think he's still out there?" she finally asked, afraid and yet certain of his answer. He thought about her question, about his own fears and feelings, and decided he was not going to lie to her.

"Yes. I think he is." His voice was low, the lowest she had ever heard, as if admitting this would summon the man himself.

She nodded, relieved that he didn't lie to her. She thought about asking one more question, wrestling with it, but their conversation had left both in a solemn mood with a heaviness in the air. It was unfair to ask more of him. But she would try and heed his advice, she would deal with the Dark Lord when the time came, but for now she was going to try and enjoy as much as she could as her own person.

"Thank you Professor. I'll see you at 7."

He nodded curtly, turning back to his papers and she left to her next classes, her thoughts still on her strange conversation with the Potions Master.

Xxx

Christmas time came and went. Cassiopeia returned home to the Tonks household, held up a strained peace with her adopted sister, and smiled at all the appropriate times, sent the appropriate thank you letters to Mr and Mrs Weasley, who always remembered to send her something despite not seeing her for years, and to her Aunt and Uncle Malfoy, whom she rarely wrote to and visited since the Glynn incident.

She spent the break thinking about what Snape had said, and about her life, her future, and what she wanted out of it. She was going to be 17 soon, she recently acquired her apparition license, and soon she would have unfettered access to all of the Lestrange accounts. She started planning, carefully gathering up all of her most loved and valuable things from her room and packing it to bring with her at Hogwarts. She wouldn't tell the Tonks yet of her plans, not until she was certain and she had her affairs in order, but she felt a change coming, and she was determined it was going to be on her own terms. So she smiled, she laughed, and she spent time with both her Ted and Andromeda, enjoying their efforts to make her feel like a part of the family. For a little while, mainly when Nymphadora forgot she hated her, she even believed it.

Returning to Hogwarts she worked closely with Professor Flitwick preparing the objects she was going to data mine. She had been fortunate that most of the Hogwarts staff volunteered for her project, and she secured firm commitments from Professor McGonagall, Professor Babbling, her aging ancient runes teacher, and Professor Snape. She also secured Mr Spavin from St Mungos and asked her uncle Ted to be involved as well. She wanted a variety of ages, both genders, and different wizarding heritage represented. She prepared the objects, six identical spheres, like bright, shining christmas baubles, one for each volunteer, and a control object for herself. Everything was in place, all she had to do was learn the bloody spell.

Learning how to cast the necessary spells for her independent study was a sweet torture. The incantation had to be said perfectly, and the wand movements needed to be exact. If she was off by even a sixteenth of an inch, the spell would fail. She ran through the wand movements for hours, until her arm shook and ached from the effort. She wanted to be able to cast the spell in her sleep, with no missteps.

When she finally managed to crack the bloody spell. She eagerly sent the baubles off to the appropriate volunteer for them to provide their magical sample in the form of a warding spell. While the baubles were away with her volunteer Cassiopeia felt the hollowness creep back in.

She had distracted herself successfully from her melancholy with her own personal projects, trying to figure out what she was going to do once she was a proper adult. She sent a few business owls, quietly making enquiries to the bank and hired a solicitor to help her with what promised to be a mound of paperwork and to keep her enquiries private from the Malfoys. She wanted no interference.

When her 17th birthday finally came there was very little fanfare. She received a few owls in the morning with small presents and promises of celebrations over the easter holiday. Without any friends to celebrate with, and her cousin offering a very unenthusiastic happy birthday in passing in the corridor the day continued as most days did. She spent it locked up in a special classroom Professor Flitwick had put aside for her to do her work in, laboriously poring over the complicated spell diagrams from her baubles, looking for patterns and clues to who the original caster was.

She wrote home to the Tonks that she would not be returning home for the Easter holidays, explaining she was close to a breakthrough on her research project and couldn't bear to be away from it for a few weeks, afraid that she would lose the thread she was following. They wrote back that they were of course disappointed, hoping to celebrate her birthday properly, but understood. She was one of the last people to board the Hogwarts Express bound for London that Easter trip, and sat in the luggage compartment to ensure she had absolute privacy.

She was careful to stay hidden from the Tonks and the Weasleys, who were there for their twin trouble maker sons and Percy, and anyone else who would call attention to her. She wanted privacy for what she was going to do, and it wouldn't do to be recognised on the platform. Certain she was in the clear Cassiopeia grabbed her small backpack, all she had packed for the trip, and apparated to the foyer of Gringotts bank.

Her solicitor was a muggleborn witch Ms. M Lima who was certified in both the muggle and wizarding world. She was the only solicitor in the UK to work in both worlds with a reputation for being dogged, ruthless, and highly competent. She worked freelance, mainly for the ministry to find the paper trail evidence of tax evasions, making her highly unpopular in the pureblooded community.

Cassiopeia knew she was the only person to hire to oversee her assets. And so she greeted the small woman at Gringotts. Ms Lima was dressed smartly in business robes, carrying a little briefcase at her side, her hair perfectly coiffed and her eyes clear and bright.

"Miss Tonks." She greeted, offering her hand.

Ms Lima worked well with the goblins of Gringotts who cared more for their treasures than they did wizarding politics. Because she often brought more money into the bank, and because she was clear in all of her contracts, she shared a lot of goodwill with the bank staff. That goodwill transferred to Cassiopeia as they began their meeting.

It was all standard contractual proceedings, as she turned 17 she was granted full, legal access to all of the family vaults, including her mothers share of the Black fortune and the Lestrange fortune. However, she had no idea just what the actual monetary value of her new assets were. So she hired Ms Lima to oversee the evaluation and consolidation. She understood that the Lestranges had wealth beyond the UK, she wanted to have complete oversight of every property, every galleon, and every heirloom. It was a large, and perhaps dangerous job, but her solicitor was happy for the work and was paid generously. She was also warned not to directly touch any object that was not a coin until Cassiopeia had a chance to examine it. She didn't want to risk her solicitors life with a curse, it'd be a complete waste.

She also discussed with the banker, a goblin named Ragnok, possible investment opportunities within the bank, and requested a portfolio to be put together for her to peruse and decide on. Ragnok's eyes shined with greed and glee as he grinned and delegated the task to another goblin who scurried off. Cassiopeia had every intention to work and foster good relations with the bank and the goblins who ran it knowing that she was going to apply to work with the bank and its goblins as a cursebreaker when she left Hogwarts.

After concluding her business at the bank, leaving with a sizable amount of wizarding and muggle money in her possession, Cassiopeia treated her solicitor to dinner at a nice muggle restaurant, toasting to the beginning of a wonderful professional relationship. She was making the young woman very wealthy in her own right, and the woman was making Cassiopeia's life and estate management simple and straightforward.

Despite spending a few years living in the muggle world, Cassiopeia still felt like an outsider there, there were some customs and social cues that were just different and had to be learned from birth. It was a feeling she sometimes felt from the wizarding world, growing up sheltered and under the Dark Lords influence, there were some things that to her seemed normal that was horrifying to anyone else.

But in the muggle world nobody knew who she was, her past, and her parents crimes. She wasnt tainted, and much preferred feeling the outsider with the anonymity. She felt a wild sense of freedom as she looked up her old friends from London who had helped her when she had ran away from the Tonks.

They were three people in the muggle world who had accepted her into their family without question, without obligation, and without prejudice. They had never asked who she was, where she came from, of questioned why she was so odd. When she became violent and got into a fight on the street, they would jump in without question, leaping to her defence. They compared knife concealment locations, and spent their copious free time listening to music, going to shows, and fighting skinheads.

Her friends were anti establishment, anti government, anti capitalism, and anti racism. They helped everyone who was in need, often jumping into fights to protect those less able to protect themselves. They had tattoos, piercings, odd coloured hair, and wore leather jackets emblazoned with political slogans and badges pinned on their chest, they were counter to everything proper in the country, independent and free. With them she felt as if she belonged, and with them, she felt at home. Being alien in their society was being normal.

It was ridiculous really. She was from two of the most pure blooded, anti muggle family trees in the wizarding world. She was the child of two of the most fearsome, bigoted, and violent criminals in recent history. She grew up in a classist society, where she was always taught she was superior to everyone save the Dark Lord himself.

She railed against the muggle world when she was forced to live in it. She counted down the days until she could return to her world, to where she belonged.

And after all of that, the place she was choosing to make her home in the world was in theirs, with a group of people that were counter to everything she was taught to be. It was liberating, freeing to finally choose to be with a family that chose her, that wanted to be with her, without any perceived obligations. Her parents had been stuck with her, the Tonks took her in because they felt they had to, and the Malfoys accepted her out of guilt. These people wanted her with them because they liked her.

And so she spent her holiday in the muggle world, getting into fights that sometimes turned to riots, going to shows with loud screaming lyrics in dingy basements, working and living in co op living spaces. These were places where the community could come together to support each other in a way the government failed in. It was home to other misfits, weirdos, counter, and rejected members of society. They lived together, built community centers and gardens to help feed each other, supported each other mentally and emotionally, and protected each other.

Cassiopeia was welcomed with no questions and with open arms into a world she was taught to hate and terrorise. And so she welcome all others into her home, sharing what she had, and mentally planning a way to maybe change the balance between the negativity she'd brought into the world with something positive. It was a seed of an idea, niggling in the back of her mind, but it was there, gaining the required nourishment to grow.

She wrote to her solicitor, pitching her idea and under her advice, her personal project was a go.

Xxx

She came back to Hogwarts revitalised and energised from her respite in the muggle world. She attacked her independent study, making a few small but significant breakthroughs. She had managed to isolate certain patterns in the spell diagrams that she suspected were wand signatures, details of the make and core of each wand. It was early days, but each success brought her closer to finishing her project and graduating from Hogwarts.

Her exams were challenging, and she had a few terrifying moments of complete hopelessness where her brain just refused to remember the required information in the moment. But in the end she decided she had probably done enough to continue into her last year, and that was all that mattered.

She watched Nymphadora from afar, the young woman crowing in elation as she walked out of her last exam, and celebrated with her friends during the end of the year feast. She was happy for her adopted sister and hoped she achieved everything she wanted to. She worried about her if she did become an auror, knowing full and well what dark witches and wizards were capable of. But it was her dream, and she wanted her to achieve it.

The Tonks' were all smiles and the odd tear when they arrived at Kings Cross, embracing Dora and congratulating her once more on her graduation. Her application was in, her interview was scheduled for the Auror training program, and they couldnt be happier for their daughter. Cassiopeia watched the happy family wistfully, with only a hint of well buried resentment and jealousy.

Would her mother and father celebrate her graduation? Would they have laughed and cried, eyes shining with pride and joy? Would they have wrapped her up in their arms, imparting their warmth and happiness in their embrace? Nymphadora was lucky for her family, and Cassiopeia was happy she appreciated them.

When the attention finally turned to her she smiled awkwardly, taking a small step back when Ted went in for the hug. She loved her Uncle Ted, even his unfortunate love of hugging, but what she was going to do would be easier for everyone if they didnt embrace.

His smile faltered, a small frown appearing at the edges of his mouth. "Alright Cass?"

She tried to smile through her nerves, her hands wringing her mother's silver bracelet in her anxiety. She had to tell them, it had to be a clean break.

"Come on Cass, we were going to take you girls out for a celebratory dinner. Both of our girls are all grown up and our family is all together again."

Her confidence waned. She would tell them tomorrow.

She accepted Ted's embrace and he pulled Nymphadora in as well, wrapping his arms around both of the girls who were now as tall as he was.

It was a perfect night, or so Ted had declared it over and over again, while Andromeda smiled happily. Cassiopeia was the only person to see the melancholy breaking through her expression as she surveyed the scene around the dinner booth.

As they walked back towards a safe apparition point, Andromeda wrapped her arm around Cassiopeia and slowed their pace so Ted and Nymphadora would walked further ahead, both happily and perhaps slightly drunkenly laughing and joking.

"Thank you for tonight Cassiopeia." Andromeda said lowly, "I know that wasn't your plan initially."

"How did you know I was leaving?" apparently she hadn't been as secretive as she had hoped.

"Oh love, I know you may hate to hear this, but you are indeed your mother's daughter in one aspect." She tensed in under the woman's arm, ready to pull away and argue, "You're fiercely independent. Bella couldn't wait to leave as soon as she turned 17, of course the circumstances were very different, she was getting married and joining Him. You are taking a different route in life. What are your plans?"

Her comparison, even with the qualifications made her twitch with irritation. "I purchased a few muggle buildings and have some plans to turn them into a community center. In the short term I have a flat in Bristol."

Andromeda missed a step in her surprise, with a shocked laugh bubbling forward. "I take it all back. You are nothing like my sister. Of all the things I thought you were going to say, I think that was not even in the realm of possibility."

Cassiopeia shrugged, feeling suddenly self conscious. Andromeda was the first person outside of her solicitor who knew her plans. "I have the whole of the Lestrange and most of the Black fortune at my fingertips. I might as well do something good with it." she looked guiltily up at Andromeda, "I can't give you any of it though. Nor Ted. Grandmother Black made certain that no money can ever be given to you or any of your descendents. I already looked into it, and even as sole heir, I cannot unwrite that." she said apologetically.

Andromeda squeezed her shoulders, smiling wistfully, "Never you mind about us. I knew what I was giving up when I married Ted. Money means nothing when i've got my family. That includes you by the way. Don't ever forget that."

Ted took it as well as he could when she broke the news to him the following morning, crying only a little as he hugged his niece goodbye. His words echoed Andromeda's, she was his daughter, if she wanted to be, and there would always be a place for her with them.

She felt light headed and her butterflies fluttered around her stomach as she left the Tonks' household, her few possessions in hand, ready to venture forth into the world both completely free and as an adult. Her flat was dingy and small, atop a small corner shop down a small street that was barely larger than an alleyway. Graffiti lined all the walls and a few pubs and clubs lined her street, the sounds of drunken revelry, music, and fights rang through the night most nights. It was hers though, and it was perfect.

Xxx

It wasn't long before Cassiopeia was back at Diagon Alley, buying school supplies for her final year at Hogwarts. She enjoyed the muggle world, preferred it most to the time to the wizarding world, but there was always something special about walking down the shopping street that warmed her heart. When she was younger the street had been barren and empty, with those shoppers only venturing out when they needed to, and everyone conducted their business as quickly as possible. Now it was a bright and cheerful place, where people had social visits, enjoyed the warm weather, and generally enjoyed life in a peaceful wizarding world.

She passed a gaggle of children with their faces pressed against the window of the Quidditch shop, all eagerly talking about the latest broomstick release, and wound her way through the potions shop, ignoring the cried of outrage about the latest prices of ingredients.

Finishing her shopping and grabbing a few extra items, Cassiopeia decided to settle down in the Leaky Cauldron for a quick pint before heading back home when she ran into a familiar and sorely missed face.

"Professor Quirrell!" she shouted out excitedly, grinning at one of her favourite teachers. "You're back from you sabbatical! How was it? Did you find religion while abroad?" she asked jokingly, pointing to his purple turban.

The poor man stumbled off his barstool and barely caught himself, pale with fright as his wide eyes scanned the room wildly.

"G-good heavens." he stuttered while shaking nervously. Her eyebrows raised in concern, he had always been an easily frightened man, but this was extreme.

"Sorry about that Professor," she apologized sheepishly, reaching out to help him adjust. He flinched back violently, bumping into the wall, his shaking increasing. She held her hands up in surrender, her smile dimming in concern.

"Oh. m-m-miss Tonks. A pleasure." he squeaked nervously, drawing in on himself.

"What was that? You a-asked me a q-q-quest-quest-" he struggled, his stutter growing more severe the harder he tried.

"Your turban sir, it's nice. Is it for religious reasons." she asked, saving him from his pain.

"Oh. n-no." he gave her a nervous smile.

Silence reigned between them as she struggled to find a new topic of conversation.

"Will you be coming back to Hogwarts sir? I am sorry to say that I dropped muggle studies, but I think you would be interested in my independent study project." she said, eager to tell him about her research. She had made huge progress over the summer, finding several interesting patterns that she could write about.

He opened his mouth to respond when his attention was drawn elsewhere. There was a great commotion in the pub as people eagerly gathered around the Hogwarts gamekeeper and a child next to him, introducing themselves and shaking the young man's hand.

She watched curiously as people were nearly falling over themselves in their haste, eyeing the boy critically. He didn't look like much, stick thin and in clothes that were more than several sizes too large for him. His hair was unkempt, and he had thick black glasses that looked like it was held together with blue tack and gaffa tape.

Quirrel took a step forward eagerly, drawing the attnetion of the oddly popular pair.

"Professor Quirrell" greeted Hagrid happily, "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-p-potter" he stuttered, shaking the boys hand, his eye twitching slightly. "C-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you"

"What sort of magic do you teach Professor Quirrell." the boy asked politely

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts" he muttered, looking slightly sick at the though, "N-not that you n-need it, eh P-P-Potter?" He let out a nervous laugh, "You'll be g-getting all your equipment I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires m-myself." he looked terrified at the prospect.

The boy never had a chance to respond, the crowd pushing the timid Professor out of the way so they could make their own greetings.

Mr Potter they said. Harry Potter. Cassiopeia held her bags tightly and backed away from the crowd gathering around the boy, her stomach twisting as she made her way to the door. She had to get out, get anywhere that wasn't there.

Harry Potter. The boy who lived.

It was because of him her life changed. He had caused the fall of the Dark Lord, as a baby. And now he was a boy, a young boy about to start at Hogwarts.

She took refuge in muggle London, deciding to go for several drinks in a muggle pub, drowning her anxiety and memories in spirits. She thought back to that day, when the Dark Lord fell, and the frenzy her parents had been in. She didn't know at the time that he had been defeated, they had all but forgotten about her, so eager and desperate to find him and find answers.

It wasn't until they tortured that couple, the Longbottoms, not even a month after his fall were they finally captured. They had a child too, she wondered how old he was. Maybe she would get lucky and he would be starting Hogwarts the next year instead of the upcoming one.

10 years. It had been 10 years since he fell. 10 years since her life had changed so radically. She drank and thought over the years, her time in various muggle group homes, finding the Tonks', and building up the community she was in now. She could almost forget, when she was with the muggles and her new commune, who she was and what she had done. The war faded to a distant memory, sometimes it felt like those events happened to a different person, and she was only witnessing the fragments of that life.

And then there were times like then, when it felt like everything she had done in the muggle world was a fantasy that belonged to a stranger. That she was no more than a tourist in that world, visiting and enjoying to delights of escapism, before returning to grim reality.

Harry Potter was starting at Hogwarts. The Harry Potter. The only person to ever face the Dark Lord and survive, and he had been only a baby.

Honestly, he terrified her.

She took another long drink of her scotch, relishing the burn of the liquor.

She rented a room in the pub, too drunk to safely apparate home, her stomach twisting from more than just the alcohol.

Harry Potter, his presence in their world was an omen. He would ignite old feelings and memories in others, only they would be more keen to return to the old ways. She worried about the attention the Potter boy would bring, and she worried that the Dark Lord would not be too far behind.

She had a nightmare for the first time in about a year that night, the alcohol dulling her normally well structured and disciplined mind.

In her nightmare, she was receiving the His mark as Hogwarts burned around her.

Xxx

A/N _This feels like more a transition chapter again. sorry for the late upload, but i had just wasnt happy with this chapter so it was rewritten a few times. I do genuinely have very detailed writings of Cassiopeia's life in the muggle world, however I feel like including it here detracts from the story as it feels more like filler than anything. Same thing with her conversations with the solicitor, and the actual establishment of the buildings she bought, all anonymously. I might make mention to the details in later chapters._

 _But anyways, thanks for the reviews, and a few more favourites and follows. Hope you all enjoy, and know this part of the fic is almost over. We'll go through to her seventh year, and then end at her graduation. Part III will deal with the few years before Voldemort returns, and of course, the second war._


	22. Chapter 22: Seventh Year Part I

Cassiopeia watched the sorting hat ceremony with unusual attention, her eyes searching the faces of each of the new students, trying to find the one she was looking for. Potter was there, next to what she was sure was the youngest of the Weasley sons, and with a little surprise so was her cousin Draco, all grown up and looking particularly smug. He was even shooting glares at the Potter boy, with two little henchmen on either side of him.

'Making Lucius proud' she thought wryly, continuing her search. She wouldn't have recognised him, not from her distant memory of his parents, Aurors who had been in the order.

"Longbottom, Neville." Professor McGonagall called out crisply.

Her face grew heated and she shrank lower in her seat, hoping to remain delightfully anonymous in the crowd, and yet certain everyone was staring at her.

She knew at least one person was, at the head table, Professor Snape was trying to catch her eye, to offer her some wordless advice or encouragement. Or perhaps he wanted to make sure she knew exactly who that boy was. He was always so hard to place, her head of house.

Though many people knew who her parents were, very few knew the exact crime that sent them to prison. They had tortured and murdered many people in their time, most never took the time to learn the name of their final victims.

They didn't murder them though, they were stopped from performing that small mercy by the Aurors that had found them. She watched in sick fascination as a small child who had clearly still had baby fat to lose stumbled up to the hat.

His parents had been nice, though she didn't think she actually ever had a conversation with them. They had been brave. But they weren't quite strong enough to fight off the Lestranges and Crouch jr.

Gryffindor. She clapped absentmindedly, thinking back on the Longbottoms. They would have been proud she decided.

Her cousin followed shortly after, the hat shouting Slytherin before it had even properly touched his head.

Harry Potter wasn't far behind.

The whole school was silent, watching and waiting to see which house would have the honour of having a celebrity to join their ranks. The silence somehow grew louder and more tense as time passed. A hatstall, he was going to be a bloody hatstall.

Finally, the brim opened wide and shouted, "Gryffindor!"

The scarlet table erupted in cheers, and she smiled slightly when she heard the Weasley twins chanting happily. Good for him.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, ending when the final Weasley boy was predictably sorted into Gryffindor as well.

It took about a week for the novelty of Harry Potter being at Hogwarts to wear off and school finally started to go back to normal.

There was a brief flare up when he had somehow managed to join the quidditch team as a first year, something the whole school was abuzz about.

Cassiopeia cared little for Potter's exploits, and took to avoiding the common room for her cousin would often complain rather loudly and publicly about the boy.

Her weekly lessons with Professor Snape had reached new levels of difficulty as he forced her to revise her potions work, often times by brewing complicated potions, while withstanding random attacks on her mind from him. Their lessons had started as a way to handle her nightmares, but both parties were stubbornly trying to gain the upper hand, with Professor Snape wanting to exploit his students weaknesses, and Cassiopeia wanting to prove the disdainful man wrong. She left every lesson with a pounding headache and Professor Snape left with the satisfaction that he had, eventually, broken into his students mind. Of course it was growing more and more difficult as time passed, but he was still succeeding and therefore winning in their little competition.

The most disappointing thing of her seventh year however was Professor Quirrell. She had been so excited to be in his classes again, and he was teaching one of her favourite subjects. And yet, he completely ignored her. Nearly jumped out of his skin everytime she even approached him, and he always found a hasty excuse to be anywhere else whenever she tried to schedule a meeting with him.

She gave up after the fourth time he ran away from her, trying not to feel hurt. His sabbatical must have been traumatising for the man to have changed so much. She had been hoping she could get his opinion and perspective on her research project, especially since he had been the person to introduce her to the topic and the field.

Feeling particularly hurt from his snub she sequestered herself in her research room, an abandoned classroom Professor Flitwick had procured for her, and focussed on the bracelet.

She had cast the spell to reveal its diagram on the bracelet long ago, and when she was feeling particularly upset or stuck on another subject she liked to take it out and try to tease out a solution. She barely understood it. Whoever had taught her mother how to craft spells had a technique that she had never seen before, and it wasn't something she felt comfortable approaching anyone else about for advice.

But as it stood, until she could understand the technique behind the curse, she was stuck with the bracelet and its unfortunate connection. It wasn't until Halloween that she had a breakthrough in her research into the bracelet.

She had decided to skip the feast, preferring the quiet of her work to the boisterous atmosphere of the great hall. She also preferred to be far away from any and all pranks that the students would try to pull on the holiday.

Her breakthrough however made her feel incredibly thick. It was rather obvious and she didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. It was french. Of course it was bloody French, the Blacks family motto was French. The Lestranges were from France. She felt so stupid, all that time she had wasted looking for the origin, completely blind to what now seemed like the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course knowing the origin of the spellwork was French didn't immediately help in her mission to break the spell, mainly because she knew nothing about the French language and their methods of magic making. But it meant she could start researching in the library, hopefully coming across something useful.

For now, she scribbled the diagram down on several pieces of parchment, breaking it into different parts that she thought formed the whole, giving her bite sized pieces to puzzle through. Her head full and her eyes heavy she finally decided to call it a night, packing up her items and making the long journey to her common room.

She distantly heard the unmistakable scuffle of someone moving very quickly and trying to be quiet about it. She slowed, tucking away behind a suit of armour, waiting for whatever student that was no doubt up to no good to pass without drawing attention to herself. Halloween was always ripe with student pranks and she wanted nothing to do with it.

To her surprise it was Professor Quirrell who passed her, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he hurried throughout the corridors. It was odd, but then he was an odd man. She had just started to make a move when another shape materialised.

It was Professor Snape, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, looking particularly surly and suspicious. Quirrell had been so focused on whatever it was that he was doing that he walked right past her. She was not so lucky with Professor Snape who glared angrily at her.

"What are you doing here? Why are you not in the great hall?" his voice was particularly sharp as he growled at her, his eyes scanning the corridor.

"I was studying sir, on my project." She said slowly, trying to understand what was happening.

"Go back to your workroom at once and do not leave until I come back. There is a troll loose in the castle, last spotted in the dungeons. I will escort you once it is contained."

She did a double take, thinking she had misheard him at first. A troll? Where did the troll even come from? How had it managed to get into Hogwarts? In the dungeons of all places!

"Is that why Professor Quirrell was in such a rush?"

Snape did look at her then, very closely. She felt him prodding her mind and reinforced her mental walls instinctively. His nostrils flared in frustration, and he bared his teeth slightly.

"Yes. Where did he go? No doubt he will need assistance." His voice was dangerously soft, a tone she knew he reserved for only the most serious of matters.

She told him what she had seen and he nodded, once again reminding her to go to her workroom and wait for him.

With no other choice she obeyed, reclining in one of the chairs and staring aimlessly at a chalkboard she had covered in symbols for her project, her mind trying to puzzle out her strange head of school. He had been unusually severe, but then she figured facing a fully grown mountain troll would do that to a person.

She passed the time wondering how she would fight a mountain troll, if she had to, thinking up various spell combinations that she reckoned would work.

She had just started contemplating the likelihood that Snape had completely forgotten about her and was weighing the pros and cons of just going back herself when she heard him enter.

He looked rough, his face unusually pale and looking especially livid.

"I didn't do it, whatever it is. I did exactly as you said sir." she said immediately, raising her hands up defensively, glad she had decided to stay put.

He glared darkly at her, "if only Potter would follow directions." he muttered lowly, jerking his head in command for her to follow him.

"Potter sir?" she asked curiously, gathering up her book bag and walking with her professor.

"Merlin, are you alright sir? What did you do?" She frowned in concern as the he walked slowly, limping heavily.

He tossed his hair in irritation, scowling angrily, covering his leg with his robes, "I do believe that it is none of your business." he seethed angrily, picking up the pace despite his limp.

They walked in silence for a bit, Cassiopeia trying to reign in her curiosity in the face of the Potions Master's ill temper.

"Did you find the troll in the end sir?" she asked cautiously.

He scoffed, his scowl darkening, "Potter did. He and his friends decided to go troll hunting themselves despite clear directions to return to the common room. Unfortunately no one was harmed or expelled for their actions." He sounded disgusted.

"You mean fortunately sir, correct?" she asked tentatively. The sideways glance he threw her was answer enough.

"They in fact gained house points." he growled, his pace increasing even more in his anger and irritation.

"Merlin, you would've expelled me immediately." she breathed, thinking through the punishments she would've face as a first year in a similar circumstance. "McGonagall must be getting soft."

"Professor McGonagall." Snape hissed, correcting her immediately without thought.

"And quite."

Cassiopeia's mind was still reeling with the new information as they reached the common room. "I guess sir, you'll have to correct that imbalance in your classroom." she smirked at him slightly, knowing Snape would be particularly vicious to Potter after this stunt. She almost felt bad for him, but what sort of idiot goes after a mountain troll?

Snape remained silent, looking pointedly at the Slytherin entrance. She nodded her thanks, noticing the small smirk quirking at the side of his mouth as he no doubt thought of all the punishments he could reap on the boy in class.

She sat in a corner of the common room for a little while, taking in the gossip of her housemates as she pieced together the eventful evening.

Harry Potter's presence at Hogwarts came with more than a few curious events, and where others found this an exciting break from the monotony of classes, she found it worrying.

Harry Potter was bringing change, she didn't know how or why, and she wasn't even certain it was intentional, but it made her very uneasy.

It was only later when she realised Snape had been on the third floor, chasing a troll that was supposedly in the dungeons.

Xxx

The seventh year course load was overwhelming for all the students and to help accommodate the students there were a few study hall sessions built into their schedules. Normally these classes were supervised by a professor who would offer their advice and help for students in need, and other times a few students who were excelling volunteered to help their fellow classmates.

The current study hall session was supposed to be supervised by Professor Sprout, but she had been called away to attend to some urgent business regarding one of her students, leaving the students to their own devices.

"I expect you all to work together and support each other in your studies, and I will see some of you later this afternoon in my class! Happy studying." the woman said before leaving the seventh years to supervise themselves.

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. It was a hopelessly optimistic sentiment that was proven wrong almost immediately when most of the class left early. She pulled out the diagrams of her mother's bracelet, taking a much needed break from her ancient runes revision.

She was trying to concentrate on her work but her train of thought was interrupted by the quiet sniffling of a student a few desks away from her. It was Constance Green. She was hunched over her desk, her nose nearly touching her parchment seemingly intent on her work. Her quiet shaking and muffled sniffles were the only indication that the Hufflepuff girl was distressed.

The cause of her discomfort was two figures sitting in the desk beside her, Arlene Roberts and Matilda Cook, Slytherin students who were whispering horrible things to her, teasing her about her weight, her heritage, and the very large pimple that had the unfortunate placement at the tip of her nose.

As if her sniffling wasn't enough, even more annoying was the cackling laughter emitting from the two girls. It had been years since that laugh had been directed at her and she found time did it no favours. It was still as annoying today as it had been back in her fifth year. It was driving her insane.

"Are you bloody kidding me? Some of us are trying to study here. I suggest you two harpies shut it or jog on." she growled, barely looking up from her spell diagram.

The laughing was cut short as the two girls turned their attention to Cassiopeia. "And what's it to you Deranged Lestrange? Not that it's any of your business but we were just having a nice little chat with Green here and her large friend at the end of her nose. Isn't that right Matilda?"

"Really Arlene? Could you be more cliche? it's been two years since that name was made up. Is that really the best you can do?" she sighed, rolling her eyes and flipping the page to look at another part of her diagram.

Arlene flushed slightly, unused to a victim talking back to her, "well if you shoe fits…" she started, trailing off as she struggled to find a comeback.

She shrugged, "And if I am so deranged, surely you would think twice about crossing me." she said lowly, still eyeing over her work.

The girls grew quiet, even Constance turned in her seat to look at Cassiopeia fully, the Lestrange girl lounging casually at her desk, her wand resting on the table.

"Are- Are you threatening us?" Matilda Cook asked, suddenly sounding very nervous.

Cassiopeia finally looked up at them, her eyebrows furrowed in irritation, "Of course I am not threatening you. I am merely making an observation you dimwitted harpies."

"How- you think you're so smart and tough, with your whole-whatever this is" Arlene gestured vaguely at Cassiopeia, standing up to face her fully. "Just because you've got Snape and Flitwick on your side doesn't mean you're better than us. Because Lestrange, at the end of the day you are still you, an unhinged blood traitor." Roberts sneered, grabbing her wand from her pocket, "And I reckon it's time someone finally taught you a lesson."

Cassiopeia sighed deeply once more, watching Matilda Cook grab her wand and make a stand with her friend. Constance watched the confrontation nervously, her eyes wide as she followed the fight.

"Look, believe what you want, I dont give a threstral's shit what you think or how you use your limited brain power. I am trying to do some work, in my allotted study time, and you are an annoying distraction, like a fly that just needs to be swatted. So either shut your bloody mouth and focus on your own work, leaving Green alone so I can bloody concentrate, or you get out of the study hall and go find some first year to terrorise before you do something you regret" Cassiopeia never raised her voice as she spoke evenly, watching the girls carefully.

Cassiopeia was a little embarrassed to say that Roberts did surprise her, despite her careful observation of the witch. She waved her wand quickly causing the papers she was studying fly from under her hand and into Roberts. Arlene examined them, her face scrunch up in a sneer, looking like she was smelling something particularly rotten.

"Say Matilda, do these papers look important to you?"

"Yeah I reckon they look hard to replace." Her friend answered.

Constance's mouth dropped open in horror as she took in the scene, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. She should know, it happened to her all the time.

Cassiopeia was a little slow on the uptake, having grown complacent in the years since anyone was brave enough to attack her publicly.

"Give. me. back. my work." she hissed, grabbing her wand fully, her eyes blazing in anger and her voice deathly serious as she moved to her feet to face the girls fully. It was a voice that chilled all occupants of the room.

"Oh this? No problem" she flicked her wand, igniting weeks of notes in an instant, refusing to be cowed by the girl she despised. "Oops."

"Cassie no!" Constance cried helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of her as Cassiopeia struck lightning fast at the two girls across from her.

Cassiopeia was mildly impressed that both Cook and Roberts were able to deflect her first spell, albeit narrowly. She was also mildly taken aback by the ferocity Roberts fought with, her spells exceedingly accurate, moderately powerful, with very subtle tells. She clearly had been paying attention in her classes. Cassiopeia went on the defensive for a moment, easily holding back their attacks long enough for her to get a really good look at her two opponents.

She looked forward, not focussing on any particular thing, but a multitude of tells. Matilda Cook was the less proficient of the two girls, every spell clearly telegraphed, her wand movements exaggerated. Arlene was a little more difficult, her form was better, her moves better concealed, but her arsenal was predictable. And both were tense, too tense to react quickly.

The two girls, moderately competent 7th year student they were, never really threatened Cassiopeia. She retaliated mercilessly, her attacks forcing her opponents to take a defensive line as they fell onto their back foot. They were good, but Cassiopeia had been trained for duelling from a young age, she was exceptional.

It wouldn't have been difficult to subdue the two girls, and she would have done it in short order if they hadn't been interrupted. As it was, Professor Quirrell had heard the commotion and immediately immobilized all three girls, his face pale and his wand shaking, stopping the fight cold in its tracks.

"G-good heavens" he wheezed, looking as if he was on the verge of cardiac arrest, "What is h-h-happening here? Explain yourselves." he demanded, his meek voice somewhat undermining his words.

"They started it sir. Cook and Roberts. Cassiopeia was just defending herself and helping me." Constance said immediately.

Professor Quirrell looked faint as he tried to figure out what to do. "F-f-fighting is not allowed at Hogwarts. T-ten points from each of you." His hands were still shaking and his eyes were a little too wide as he released the spell.

The girls glared at each other, Roberts and Cook adjusting their hair as Cassiopeia brushed some dust off their robes. "A-And err detention. Y-yes detention. You two with Professor Snape, and M-m-miss Tonks with me."

"But sir, Lestrange started it! She's unhinged she is. Downright dangerous! We were just protecting ourselves." Arlene Roberts exclaimed, putting on her best innocent face.

Quirrell wasn't buying it, or he was too afraid to deal with the matter further. "O-o-off with you. N-now." he tried to be stern, his stutter undermining him once more.

Cassiopeia growled as she took in the ashes that represented several weeks of work on the bloody bracelet, using a few mental exercises to control the rising tide of her anger. Weeks of time wasted, that had been her only copy. It was all she had eyes for, her head pounding with barely contained rage.

Deep breaths she thought, counting in and out slowly to remain in control.

She was shocked out of her mental exercises by Constance, the girl she had not spoken to since her third year, touching her shoulder gently. "Thanks." she said, her voice soft.

Cassiopeia nodded jerkily, barely able to give her a small smile before she started to gather up her books. Roberts and Cook stormed out of the room to complain to someone more sympathetic, not that Cassiopeia cared much about them.

"Don't let those knobheads get to you Constance. You're better than them." she looked at her former friend finally, pushing the anger away in a room in her mind palace for her to deal with later.

Constance frowned, "it's not so easy for everyone Cass. You're just so…" she gestured vaguely to Cassiopeia, "and i'm just…" she gestured helplessly to herself.

"You're just a clever and capable witch, who should know better than to listen to shallow berks like them."

Constance shrugged, unable to say something.

"Look, good luck with that. I have weeks of work to try and replicate." Cassiopeia sighed, feeling the anger clawing in the back of her head as she looked down once more in the pile of ashes, "I'll see you around Green."

The two girls left the room, going their separate ways, both wondering how their once close friendship had changed over the years.

Professor Quirrell entered the now empty classroom, all traces of his earlier nervousness gone as he surveyed the scene. Lestrange the girl had said. He had never given it any thought, though now that she mentioned it, he did remember hearing whispers about deranged Lestrange in his classroom. He knelt to examine the pile of ashes still on the floor the classroom, the presumed catalyst of the fight.

He had seen nearly the whole confrontation, and witnessed enough of the duel to be impressed by the Lestrange girl. She was fast and efficient, and adapted quickly to a changing situations, easily gaining an upper hand in a fight where she was clearly outnumbered and disadvantaged. He only stepped in reluctantly when he did because he was worried the girl would get herself into too much trouble injuring two fellow students.

He muttered under his breath, his hand steady as he waved a complicated pattern over the pile, his eyes sharp and focussed on his work. The ashes lightened and grew in size into pieces of shredded parchment. The pieces rose into the air in a swirling mess and began re-assembling themselves. Before long he had a few whole parchments with details of a very interesting spell diagram on it.

He didn't recognise it, but the voice whispering in his ear was extremely interested. He put the parchments into his pocket, leaving the classroom and assuming his persona once more, his mind whirring with the new information.

Xxx

Cassiopeia showed up to her detention, her head pounding from her earlier occlumency lesson with Professor Snape compounded by the irritation that she even had to serve detention and lamenting her lost notes.

Professor Quirrell barely jumped in surprise when she entered his classroom, throwing her bag down on a ground beside a desk before slumping into it. At least Quirrell had the good sense to separate her from Cook and Roberts. Serving detention with them would have been truly awful.

The Professor gave her a nervous smile, his eye twitching slightly as he examined her from the other side of his desk. Cassiopeia reckoned he was mentally building the courage to address her and wondered if he was suddenly regretting giving her detention in the first place.

"L-lines today Miss Tonks." He said simply, waving his wand at the chalkboard.

Fighting is not allowed at Hogwarts

Brilliant. She hating writing lines, finding it an unbearable waste of time. She cursed the person who invented this as a form of punishment.

It was the longest hour of her life, she was certain. Her hand ached, her headache never really abated, and she stewed in her anger and resentment towards her housemates.

She was relieved when Professor Quirrell informed her that she had written enough, accepting her lines and tucking them away. Wishing for a hasty retreat she was surprised when Quirrell address her once more.

She paused, her impatience to leave battling with her curiosity. Professor Quirrell had ignored her for the whole of the first term so far. He'd gone months dodging her requests, and now here he was, digging through his desk, his hands shaking and looking a little paler than usual.

"A-Ah. I b-believe these b-belong to you." he said, giving her a small pile of parchments.

No. Bloody. Way.

She couldn't believe it, it was her notes, the ones she thought Arlene had destroyed forever. And yet, here they were, in her professor's hands.

"Thank you sir!" she gushed, holding them carefully and looking them over for any missing details.

He hummed, giving her a small, nervous smile, "C-curious diagram. I-is it yours?" He asked casually, his eye twitching slightly

"Oh, er no. It's a curse that I er read about in a book. I'm trying to break it actually. As a personal challenge and learning exercise of course." She said, suddenly nervous. She had never really shared the schematics of her cursed bracelet before, mainly because most people would not be able to help her even if they wanted to. Professor Quirrell was one of the few exceptions in the school, he was a well read man, of course he would recognise the diagram for what it was.

He hummed, "May I?" he held his hand out for the papers, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

She handed them back over, her stomach twisting, uncertain how Quirrell would react.

He ran his wand over the parchments, he spread them out, trying to figure out how she had broken down the larger image into smaller sections. With a sharp flick of his wrist the diagrams lifted off the pages and hung in the air, enlarged, between them, the pieces forming a whole. He stood from his desk, finally able to see the spell in its entirety and examined them closely.

"Not a curse." he said simply, he was rubbing his fingers against each other as he thought, a nervous tick.

"What?" Now it was her turn to be confused. Of course it was a curse, she couldn't take the bracelet off and it was devised by someone who specialised in curses.

"It's not a curse. Not totally. The structure is wrong. It's certainly d-dark magic" he looked faint as he thought about it, "but it looks more like a tracking charm than anything. And yet, it seems more. C-curious." He moved closer to the diagram, looking at the small details, "It's rather elegant work, French you know?" he looked at her for confirmation.

Mulling over the conundrum brought a change over Quirrell, he stilled considerably, with most of his nervous ticks melting away. Talking over the academic problem in front of him seemed to center him, calm him, even his stutter disappeared and his eyes sharpened as he looked at her.

He was almost back to the way she remembered him, highly intelligent and deeply curious, but somehow he seemed more. He had changed on his travels, she thought only for the worse, but now she saw he had also grown with the experience, in a strange, stilted way.

"I thought as much, but i've been having trouble finding parallels to these runes. And these symbols here, I understand their purpose based on context clues, but their meaning is foreign to me."

"They look familiar to me. I think I may have seen them while examining another spell in Paris. Let me check my field notes and i'll get back to you. For now, do you mind if I take a copy of this? It is an interesting problem, and if you wouldnt mind the help?"

"Not at all sir! Any light you can shed would be brilliant. This is more of a hobby of mine so I rarely get to work on it outside of my limited spare time. Obviously my independent study takes priority, but any help would be welcome." She gushed, relieved to finally reconnect with her favourite professor over a subject he introduced her to all those years ago.

He transferred the floating diagram to a chalkboard he kept spare in the classroom, still eyeing it critically, looking for hidden meanings. "Perhaps you can c-come by for tea Miss Tonks, and we can discuss this work." His eye was twitching again.

She nodded, eager to continue learning from the Professor. It was what she hoped would happened when she heard he was coming back. Professor Flitwick was a knowledgeable and brilliant supervisor, but Professor Quirrell was intellectually curious to the point of knowing a fair amount of what would be considered dark magic. He also understood that an interest in dark magic was very different from practicing dark magic. She felt there were topics she could discuss with Quirrell that she'd never be able to bring up with Flitwick, this spell diagram being one of them.

"W-well Miss Tonks, if that's a-all…" his stutter returned as he turned to his student, indicating the late hour.

"Of course, thanks again Professor, i'll call in when i've got some free time." she excused herself, pleased with how her detention had turned out, the pounding in her head now no more than a minor annoyance.

Her relationship with Quirrell changed to resemble something more to how they were in the early days. She would drop by at least once, if not twice, a week to his office for a chat and a cuppa, each meeting lasting at least an hour and sometimes stretching across several. She was pleased to see that he was relaxed during these sessions, feeling comfortable and safe enough for his stutter to ease to being almost non existent and his shaking to still.

That wasn't to say that he was the same professor from all those years ago. Something, or several somethings she suspected, had scarred the man during his grand tour of the world. More than a few times she caught him muttering to himself under his breath when he thought no one was around. He also stared at her during his classes when everyone was focussed on their assignments, he would sit behind his desk and watch her closely, his eyes unusually sharp. It had only happened a few times but it made her feel uneasy. She dismissed her feelings as ridiculous thought, Professor Quirrell had always helped her, and sure he was strange, but that wasn't a good reason to spurn his help.

Professor Snape however found their relationship curious. "Has Professor Quirrell done anything peculiar or strange around you?" he questioned her suddenly during one of their occlumency lessons.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "He is a strange bloke, everything he does in peculiar. Besides why do you care?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, "You are keeping your barriers up during the day correct? Not just in my lessons."

"Of course, for practice mainly. And to keep stray thoughts at bay. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." he said simply, daring her to continue.

"Look I know you don't like him, and whatever you feel about him, don't put that on me. He has been helping me a lot, always has, I mean he even lent me a book on French runes just last week."

"And why would you be interested in French runes?" Snape drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"Why not?" she countered, evading the question.

In truth she wondered if Professor Quirrell had read the book in its entirety. And if he did, then it was very curious that he would lend her such a book. It had a lot of useful information about French runes sure, but it also was filled with dark magic and graphic depictions of curses. It was the sort of book she reckoned her mother would enjoy, a manual for violence, complete with theoretical breakdowns of how and why every curse worked the way they did.

It was an interesting and challenging read, given it was in French, but she was puzzled about why he had given it to her in the first place. It was a text that was definitely banned from the school. Did Quirrell trust her enough to not use any of the information contained in that book offensively? And just what sort of things did he really know if that was the sort of the book he peruses? He was a curious man.

He never brought up the contents of the book and she never felt comfortable enough to mention the violence depicted in it. She read it for the information she needed, and perhaps spent a little more time than she would care to admit on some of the darker pages, before returning it to her strange Professor.

The holidays came and went, Cassiopeia going home to continue to set up her new flat and to spend the holidays with the Tonks', who were eager to hear how she was getting on in school and with her new place. They didn't know where she was staying and she preferred to keep it that way, just to maintain her independence and to negate any unwanted visits.

It also gave her a chance to catch up with her adopted sister who still remained living at the house in her childhood bedroom as she went through the rigorous auror training programme. It was a three year study, and Dora was one of just two successful applicants. They had apparently just started learning practical concealment and were finally doing simulated fieldwork.

Dora however had no interest in conversing or catching up with Cassiopeia, remaining barely civil enough for her parents, and toeing the line of rudeness. She seemed quite pleased when Cassiopeia announced that she would not be staying overnight and would instead go to her own flat. Ted and Andromeda protested weakly, informing her that her room was all made for her in case she changed her mind, but it was a lost cause.

The more the year progressed the more pressure she felt on producing useful results from her independent study. She had many interesting observations to write about in her final dissertation but nothing truly groundbreaking or immediately useful, despite a years worth of research. With Professor Flitwick's help she began outlining her results, and produced a few drafts of her early chapters. She even received help from Mr Spavin from St. Mungos, who proof read her drafts and offered useful critiques and comments.

She was ecstatic when she read his comments and his final missive. He had offered her the opportunity to come work with him in the hospital for a week over the Easter holiday if she wanted to. He explained that by completely random and unforeseeable circumstances that the hospital would have the RF spectacles that were so hotly debated during her review panel to be in the hospital at the time, and if she was interested, she could borrow them as a hospital intern to work on hospital related things. If she saw anything else that just so happened to be in the room that was relevant to her own work, well he couldn't control that. It was just a happy coincidence he said.

She eagerly accepted his offer, gushing about it to both Professors' Flitwick and Snape, who had wildly different reactions. Flitwick was excited for her, suggesting that she should think about applying to work for St Mungos for her apprenticeship after Hogwarts. Professor Snape was silent, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he could care less about her holiday plans.

So consumed by the preparations for the short internship, she barely had time to meet with Professor Quirrell once a week, not that the man minded much. The stress of the school year was taking its toll on the professor. He looked sickly and weak, though his mind was still sharp as ever. She did wonder if he was losing it a little bit, finding him talking to himself under his breath more and more as he worked.

She shrugged, he had always been a strange professor, and this was nothing more than another one of his nervous ticks.

 _A/N Hi Folks! Another chapter and the second to last of Part II. I was initially going to post this as one super giant chapter (just shy of 17 K words) but decided to break it into two normal sized chapters. The next one will be the last one, before I begin Part III, which I already have a considerable chunk written for. Thank you everyone who took the time to read this, thanks to the few of you who have reviewed, especially those of you who have been consistent. I do genuinely love them and actively look forward to reading them._

 _I might wait a short while to update the final chapter, as I want to start posting Part III fairly soonish upon finishing this one, and that requires some more writing. But I am in a groove of sorts and super inspired, just need to time to get the beginning kicked off. Hope you enjoy this one, and happy holidays!_


	23. Chapter 23: Seventh Year Part II

Mr Spavin was beside himself with excitement as he went down to the main lobby to pick up his intern for the week. He was certain that this young witch was going to change the field of theoretical magic, and she had a bright future ahead of her. He just hoped he could convince her to choose his department to work her magic in, and was certainly going to try him damndest to grab her before she was snatched up by someone else.

She was young and still had much to learn, but he had never met someone with such a natural understanding of charms and spell work. He wondered, privately, if her heritage had anything to do with her knowledge. He had been a curse breaker for St Mungos during the last wizarding war, and he saw first hand the atrocities her parents committed. Rumour had it that the Lestranges treated their daughter much in the same way they treated their victims, with callous disregard. He made a mental note to keep her away from the long term residents, at least for this initial internship. Best not dredge up the past.

Whatever the reason, tragedy and horror or just plain natural talent, she was remarkable. Once she learned to reign in her own ambitions, she would be a force. Her independent study had been a wildly ambitious proposal and as predicted she was having difficulties unravelling all that she had hoped, but the drafts she had sent him were already enough for her to easily achieve an O in her NEWT examinations. He almost regretted offering his help to her during the research phase as it meant he had to recuse himself from her examination panel.

It was a necessary sacrifice, he knew that she would be sending out her applications for apprenticeships in a few weeks, and he wanted to make sure that her firm first choice would be the hospital. Offering her this internship, and more importantly access to a resource she was denied, was his way of showing her how much she could learn from St Mungos.

She was prompt, arriving a few minutes early for her first day, already a good sign. She looked nervous, out of place in her muggle clothes.

"Alright there Miss Tonks! Welcome to St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, I am so pleased you accepted my invitation for this taster internship for this week. I know you are quite busy with your independent study and I am perhaps taking you away from your family, but I promise it will be an exciting and fun week.

Here is a set of robes for you and an identification badge, that will give you access to most areas and will identify you as one of our interns and not a patient or visiting family member. Right, I guess the first stop will be the staff changing rooms. Most people apparate or floo directly into the building, but a few of us like to spend time in the muggle world and come in via the underground."

He paused outside a door with a female figure drawn on it, "If you head on in there and get those robes on, you should find a locker with your name on it. Just tap your wand to it to register it, and then only you can open it. I'll wait here for you."

Once she was appropriately dressed, he led her to his office to start her induction. "Brilliant, welcome to my department, we are tucked away in the basement far away from any of the patients, dealing with research. The department is broken into three main fields, disease research, potions research, and rogue spell research with quite the range of topics, our staff is constantly starting new projects, it's a rather dynamic part of the hospital.

We have about a dozen staff members employed here full time all working on various projects with different specialisations. Our primary duty is provide support for the healers upstairs, whenever someone comes in with strange symptoms or injuries, it's our job to figure out what is wrong with them and find a way to fix. We also keep track of epidemics, issue general guidelines for the wizarding public, and test new magic and potions down here."

"So you don't work with patients primarily sir?" she asked curiously, peering into jars filled with pickled animals all exhibiting strange morphologies.

"Well it depends on the researcher. Some prefer to just stay down here and some work both upstairs and downstairs. For example, before I was the head of this department, I specialised in curse breaking, and depending on where the origin of the curse was, i.e. an object or a wand, my duty was to either work directly on the patient or on an object that contained the curse. That's why we are in the basement by the way, had more than a few mishaps with cursed objects and potions exploding. Best to keep that away from the ward."

He continued his tour, from the basement through the hospital wards, introducing her to various healers, trainees, and other apprentices working in the building. The tour lasted the morning and by lunchtime Cassiopeia was feeling both very hungry and overwhelmed by the enormity of the place and all the introductions she had made. It didn't help that Mr Spavin had barely paused the whole day, constantly filling her in on every detail of the place.

She was relieved when after lunch he deposited her in a quiet work room back in the basement.

"Now, because you haven't gone through the formal training yet, I cant put you on any of our current cases, but occasionally we have objects dropped off that are curios- things with low level curses and slight malevolence. These things aren't dangerous, but more annoying than anything. We keep them in here to await curse mapping and breaking, occasionally, if we have time, someone will come in an spend a day or two with these objects. We also have a wonderful library, plenty of workspace, and lots of bright minds to pick.

I thought this would be an ideal place for you to work, maybe do some research with our library for your independent study, tinker with the lightly cursed objects, and I have a time slot scheduled for you at the end of the week with the RF spectacles. Only twenty minutes mind, but it's better than nothing. Everyone working here is highly qualified and very curious, so I am sure they wouldn't mind you asking them questions if you are interested in anything, though they do have time sensitive work to do, so maybe only ask questions during their breaks.

I have to run to some admin meetings, but my office door is always open. We are a very relaxed office, and your main duty is to learn whatever you can while you're here."

And with a grin and a wink she was finally left alone in blessed silence.

Lionel Spavin took every opportunity to check in on his intern, sometimes for quick hellos and other times for a slightly longer tea break. Each time he saw her his admiration and astonishment grew. She spent the first two days working through their library, filling at least two notebooks with scribbled notations and runes, he was surprised to see her affinity not just with English runes but also French. He spotted a few language dictionaries beside her on the second day as she ploughed through books written in German and in Dutch.

The third day she moved onto the curios, he thought she would find them an interesting challenge and might even provide a good foundation for others to work on.

He kept them around as brain teasers for his trained staff, difficult enough to engage the mind, but not too difficult that it should take anyone with curse breaking training more than a few days. They were good things to work on when one's mind was consumed with another problem. Distraction pieces.

He didn't expect her to be successful in her tinkering. She was still in Hogwarts with no formal curse breaking training. Despite her reasonable grasp of theoretical charms it was a leap to connect the two without formal instruction, there was a reason all curse breakers had to undergo years of formal education, most second year interns wouldn't have been able to break one curse easily.

She had broken two of the curses by the end of wednesday and was back digging through the library, taking more notes on curse structures. He was gobsmacked, triple checking to make sure she had actually broken the curses fully. She did.

Thursday he asked her about her upcoming applications, almost unnerved by her ability to interrogate curses and spells. She had hesitated when he asked, thinking through her answer carefully. She initially was only going to apply to the curse breaking programme offered by the Goblins, but she was beginning to see the appeal of St Mungos.

"Not the Ministry programme?" She was already shaking her head before he could even finish. "You know my past sir, I think it's best for everyone that I have as little to do with law enforcement." she said darkly, scowling.

"That's not very fair, you would be a marvellous addition to the team. I think you should apply, it never hurts to put your name in the hat, and if it doesn't pan out, well I am sure a position here would be easy enough to come by."

"It is interesting the work you do Mr Spavin, and I admit I am torn between working here and at Gringotts, I find the fieldwork and breadth of magic im sure ill encounter rather appealing from the bank, but ultimately they are interested in treasures while you are here helping people. I respect that." It was something, a start, his mind already whirling in ways to get her to join onto his team.

"See how the interviews go, it might be possible for your practical apprenticeship to be done between two organisations. It's rare, but not unheard of." He'd have to get to the Goblins before they realised how prodigious she was, otherwise they'd never let her go. But he was a little relieved to hear he didn't have to compete with the ministry programme, they already sucked the best curse breakers away from the hospital and the bank.

Friday was the day she was finally going to get to use the RF spectacles. She had spent most of the previous day preparing the objects of her independent study and reading more into the use and history of the spectacles. Mr Spavin had given her one of the curios he kept for her to bring in the room, it was one that she had already broken, but he suggested she examine it with the RF spectacles just to be sure, hospital business and all.

The RF spectacles were a rare magical artefact found a few centuries previously by an anthropologist studying ancient magic deep on an island in the Indian Ocean. This island was home to a wizarding tribe who were previously unknown to the larger wizarding world and to the muggle world, they had lived in isolation for centuries, cloaking their island in heavy wards to scare away any passing sailors over the years. The magic they practiced had been wild, primal, and very ancient. They were closer to the magic, understanding it as a force of nature, with a connection unlike that of any modern witch or wizard. They lived in harmony with magic and attracted a whole host of magical creatures on their island, the creatures and wizards coexisting in a peaceful symbiosis for centuries, cultivating woods and herbs that provided homes for the magical creatures. It was on this island where they crafted crude spectacles, more like swimming goggles than anything out of local wood that was the finest wand quality wood money could buy to presumably craft their magic.

When the greater wizarding world found out about the island, it was unfortunately in the height of global colonisation and empire. Countries fought over possession of the island and the precious resources on it, the trees were felled to make wands for the gentry, the animals slaughtered and dissected for anatomical drawings and for potions ingredients, the lush gardens and herbs harvested to create potent tinctures, and the islanders imprisoned for being savage. The lone anthropologist had tried to save as much of their knowledge as possible, but inevitably they were either killed by greedy wizards invading their land, or modern diseases that eventually finished them off. Only a dozen or so spectacles survived the centuries, the knowledge of how to make them lost with the villagers who wrote nothing down, instead passing knowledge through oral histories.

The spectacles were genuine artefacts, closely guarded and highly valuable, by a few ministries around the world. She treated it with the sufficient respect they deserved, handling them carefully and thanking Mr Spavin profusely.

Lionel watched the student carefully place the spectacles on, handling them with the utmost care and reverence and was amused to see her face light up as she looked through them at the world. Looking through the spectacles was like looking at another world, they showed the hidden magic that hung in the air in clear blue etchings. It offered a perspective that was not possible with simple spell diagrams that she had been working with, because it showed the magic as it was in the real world. She stared at the wards on her research objects as they pulsed with life and energy, their form shifting subtlety and interacting with the magic in the environment. Diagrams offered a snapshot of a natural phenomena, preserving a single moment, but the spectacles showed the magic in 4D

She let herself marvel for a few minutes, before grabbing her pencil and attacking the notebook with an almost crazed fervour, trying to capture as much of the experience and her impressions as possible. He had only managed to grab her a short twenty minute time slot, the spectacles were in high demand and he had to call in a few favours for this slot.

Cassiopeia was enthralled, writing fervently, oscillating wildly between her mothers bracelet which glowed and pulsed with magic that went beyond the simple object as she had always suspected. There were thin magical tendrils emanating from the silver that were seeping into her skin, she ran her hand over the bracelet, her fingertips resting briefly against her wrist above her pulse confirming her suspicion. The bracelet was throbbing with life in time with her heart beat. She wrote as much as she could, copying symbols that flared to life and disappeared within seconds, moving her wrist around to examine it fully. Now that she was looking at the bracelet through the spectacles, she felt keenly connected to the spell, the magic caressing her, very different from her own, and yet very familiar.

It was a masterwork truly, elegant and beautiful, even she could appreciate that despite her overwhelming contempt for the object. Looking at it through the lenses she wondered for the first time if her mother had been entirely forthcoming on its purpose.

But that was a distraction, she had to work on her independent study, she could feel Mr Spavins eyes on her as he watched her work. He was a strange man who seemed overly keen to get her to work for him. She didn't really understand it, but he had arranged this specifically for her, an opportunity she certainly wasn't going to waste.

The wards she was studying for her project had looked nearly identical when she had pulled the spell diagrams, but under the gaze of the spectacles she saw there were subtle differences between each one. Their magic pulsed in different rhythms, the magic moved in different ways, and each one had its own personality almost. She wished she could study them for longer with the glasses, feeling that with enough time she would be able to pull not just the hints of the original spell caster but actually manage to find the fabled individual magical signatures.

She wasn't familiar with most of the magic displayed in front of her, not having spent time around any of her volunteer's magic long enough to know it. One of the warded objects stood out to her however, its familiarity as comforting as an old friend, it made her heart race and she couldn't write fast enough. With a impatient wave of her wand, she watched in fascination as the magic flowed from the tip and into her pen, sinking into it and animating it. She began dictating, speaking faster than she could write, detailing everything she was seeing, and pulling out her own magical signature and identifying at least one of the baubles.

Her time was up, she was breathless as she handed the spectacles to the next user, flicking her wand to gather all of her notes, still dictating as she walked out to her pen which was hovering in the air and scrawling madly across a page. Mr Spavin accompanied her, gently guiding her to the workspace he had set up for her, his ears open as he listened to her thought process as his own thoughts raced.

Her understanding and observations were equal to that of his more qualified and trained staff members, she spoke like someone with years of training when in reality she had nothing formal. Either Professor Flitwick was a better teacher than he had ever dreamt or she was the single most motivated and naturally gifted witch he had ever come across.

She was a bloody prodigy. A damned bloody prodigy.

Cassiopeia rode that high throughout the day, alternating between dictating information about her independent study and scrawling notes about her bracelet. She could feel it moving, pulsing against her skin, and she wondered if it was a psychosomatic feeling since she witnessed the movement of the magic, or if she was just aware now that she knew what to look for. It made her sick regardless, she felt its touch against her skin, a gentle caress, warm and tender, always present, always there, like a cold warning. The magic embodied everything her mother was.

Her week long internship ended with Mr Spavin taking her out for a work lunch, wishing to discuss once more her plans for her post Hogwarts career and suggesting for what seemed like the hundredth time that she shouldn't hesitate to contact him if she needed anything, references, advice, or if she had more questions about the programme offered by the hospital. She barely resisted rolling her eyes, his wish for her to work for him was almost obnoxiously transparent.

"As you know, I obviously want you to apply for my department, where you will be accepted in a heartbeat. And yet, I am conflicted. I genuinely want what's best for you. Miss Tonks, this week has been brilliant and has made me realise that you are totally unaware of just how talented you are.

You process information and make mental leaps comparable to someone with years of experience and formal training. Far beyond what I expect an even remarkable Hogwarts student should be capable of. You are already on the way to being a cracking curse breaker far ahead of your peers, i'd even wager you might be the youngest curse breaker to qualify in at least a generation. You have your pick of the programmes offered not just here in Britain, but abroad as well. Keep the hospital as a firm fallback, I think you would learn a lot in St Mungos, I can assure you we can tailor a programme to challenge you sufficiently, but I also think you might grow bored. Perhaps when you're fully qualified you would consider becoming a research fellow on call at the hospital, someone we can bring in for particularly challenging and exotic cases.

But I cannot in good conscience turn you away from applying with the auror office even the International Confederation of Wizards, possibly even InterAur. Their entrance is difficult, and you would have to work harder to convince a few bigots and old guard to let you in, but I think you could do a lot of good and most importantly, grow the most in those positions."

Cassiopeia's face was red from embarrassment from the naked praise and admiration the head of the research department was heaping on her. Sure, she had been studying for nearly seven years to get to where she was, but that didn't mean she was remarkable. It just meant she had no life and was mildly obsessive. The idea of working with the British aurors, or even the international auror organisation InterAur, made her feel ill.

They conducted extensive background and character checks for those positions, and she worried if someone dug too far into her past they would discover just how she conducted herself during the previous war. She had hurt people, she had killed people. She deserved to be in Azkaban, and every day she wasn't was a magical blessing. She couldn't open herself up to that level of scrutiny, she wouldn't sacrifice the opportunity she was given to try and make up for all the evil she had put in the world, she wanted to help people, and she couldn't do that from prison.

"Thank you sir, you are perhaps giving me far too much credit, but it is appreciated nonetheless. But I don't particularly want to make my life more difficult by calling attention to myself. I just want to get on with the job the best that I can."

He frowned at her, "at least apply. You can decide at your interview whether the prevailing attitude is too much for you to handle. But it would be a shame to not even try out of fear. There are plenty of people in the office who will overlook your family, enough to perhaps sway the decision in your favour. And if they reject you, well know that it has nothing to do with your ability, and know you will always find support both in my department and I suspect from the Goblins, albeit in a more roundabout way. I might even be able to work something out between the hospital and the bank to get you a varied education between our two institutions."

She flushed in indignation this time. This man had helped her sure, but he was overstepping his bounds. Who was he to tell her how to live her life, how to manage her unfortunately familial relations or what would be best for her. What did he know?

"I appreciate your support sir, and your help. But there is just too much history between me and the aurors, and I do not want to bring back old wounds."

He sighed and sat back, "Well at least think about it. If you feel so strongly against it I don't blame you. There is a lot of ego in that office," he scowled as he thought about it, "they look down on all of the other programmes, so imagine their disbelief if they were to accept you only for you to turn them down for what they see as a lesser programme. Would serve them right." He was smirking now, gazing off into the distance, presumably imagining the scenario.

Her indignation cooled as she took his meaning. The longer she spent with Mr Spavin the more curious she found him and the more he grew on her.

"Nevermind that for now, just know you have an ally in me, us Slytherins gotta stick together eh?" He gave her a wink before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Her eyebrows raised, looking at him with renewed fascination, she had always assumed he had been a Ravenclaw. "It wasn't a happy coincidence that you had the RF spectacles for the week of Easter holiday was it sir." she asked suspiciously, her lips quirking up in amusement.

He sat back in his chair and laughed, his eyes sparkling as looked over his new favourite student, "Of course not, there are no such things as happy coincidences." he grinned at her.

She returned his smile before tucking into her lunch, reevaluating his advice. Perhaps it would be satisfying to reject at least the British Auror organisation.

xxx

She genuinely thought the Professors at Hogwarts secretly hated all of their students. Her course load had been nearly unbearable before the break, but as she entered her final term it somehow reached new levels. She had cut her sleep back to a mere five hours, supplemented with power naps through the day and a probably unhealthy amount of caffeine.

She was also ashamed to admit she had considered going back to pepper up potions to help cope with her schedules, promising it would be a stop gap measure, just to make it the last few months. Professor Snape had caught her thought during one of his surprise legilimency attacks during his class, she had been so exhausted she hadn't even caught on to what he was doing until he was demanding she stay after class before verbally dressing her down for even the stray thought.

So she soldiered on without any magical help, barely able to fit in her occlumency lessons with Snape and the odd quick cup of tea with Professor Quirrell.

It was during one such occlumency lesson that Cassiopeia found herself struggling to fight off her Professor and stay awake. She grit her teeth, trying to fight the pull of her heavy eyelids and the fog of exhaustion clouding her mind. Not even Snape's yelling was enough to keep her alert, her body finally giving out.

He had broken in and was flicking through her surface memories roughly, driving home his point that it had been far too easy for him and perhaps trying to goad her into putting up some defense.

She was too tired to care. Let him see, there was nothing important on her mind, just work. So much work. She had been working on the final full draft of her independent study before she had come to his class, writing up her observations from the RF spectacles. She had committed as much of the experience to memory as possible, burning the symbols and magic into her mind, weaving it into the fabric of her consciousness.

It was that memory he paused on, slowing down and examining it curiously, his earlier maliciousness gone and inquisitiveness in its place.

She actually approved of his actions, when a legilimens examined her memories they pulled them forward with a new life, they were brighter, clearer, and more solid than they were in her own recollection. She watched the scene carefully, reliving the remarkable experience, picking up on details she had forgotten about. She was already mentally outlining new things for her to add to her independent study.

But Snape wasnt fascinated by her independent study. She realised it too late, his interest was held by something else in the memory. Something she would prefer he not see at all. She sat up, alert with the sudden rush of cold adrenaline, fighting to push the man out.

Sensing her alarm he doubled down, now suspicious, digging the tendrils of his magic deep into her mind, anchoring them both in this point, slowing it down, looking at it from every angle. He felt her fear, her wonder, and her unease from the memory, and she dimly felt his hands encircling her wrist in the classroom, pinning it to the table.

He examined the spell as seen through the spectacles, watched as tendrils of magic delved into her and pulsed with her heart beat, and when he finally pulled out of her mind he was examining the bracelet suspiciously, alternating between glaring at it and at her.

"Professor, you're hurting me," she winced as he squeezed her wrist tighter, pulling it close to his face to examine the innocuous bracelet.

"What. Is. This." he growled, tapping his wand gently against the silver, his gaze intent on the jewelry.

"It's a bloody bracelet Professor, surely you've seen one before." she growled trying to pull her arm back, alarmed by the look on his face. She had known he was a death eater and for the first time she believed it.

"Do not lie to me Lestrange." he hissed, still weaving magic around her wrist, immobilising it in the air so he could look at the bracelet fully without her fighting him.

"Professor, please whatever you're doing, just stop it." her eyes grew in alarm as she felt the bracelet become uncomfortably warm under the assault of his wand, the silver tightening painfully, biting into her skin.

He growled again when he saw the bracelet constrict, its edges cutting into her wrist and drawing blood, angrily releasing all of his spells abruptly, causing her wrist to fall to the desk heavily. She cradled it to her chest with a grimace, trying to soothe the wound and caressing the now boiling metal, willing it to relax, to become inanimate once more.

"Do you know what that is?" She had never seen him this angry, pacing back and forth in front of her desk.

"It's a present from her, it connects her to me, it lets her find me regardless of where I am in the world. It's my curse." she murmured, wincing in pain as the bracelet grew in size, the edges unsticking from the now open wounds on her wrist. "Can you grab me the dittany?" she sighed examining the damage.

The bracelet fell up her forearm just enough for her to get to the wounds it had left, and she dabbed it with the paste Snape had slammed on the desk in front of her before resuming his pacing.

"You think that's all it is? Something as simple as a tracking charm?" he scoffed, talking down to her as he slowed his pacing to look her in the eyes. She felt him at the edges of her mind, prying for information.

"Show me." he commanded, his mental push become more insistent.

"Why should I?" she doubled down on her barriers defensively, curling her wrist closer to her chest. He was scaring her. He was cold, his eyes calculating, and his demeanour demanding and controlling. He was an authority figure who wanted something from her and was being a troll about it, it was her knee jerk reaction to respond in kind with suspicion and rebellion. It was none of his business anyways, it was her own problem.

"If that is doing what I suspect it's doing, then it is in your best interest to show me the memory. I am trying to help you Cassiopeia." he lowered his voice and slowed down his words, attempting to calm her after noticing the fear and anxiety exuding out of her.

"I've analysed the spell Professor, i've been studying it for years. It's just a tracking charm, one with magic that protects itself against attacks. Harmless so long as she is in Azkaban." she said wishing she felt as confident as she sounded.

"You and I both know that it is doing more than that. That this curse is more than what it seems." he said softly, careful to keep his eyes on her, raising his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture. "This magic is not passive, it's interacting with you, and I for one would like to know exactly what it's doing."

"Don't be ridiculous, I don't know what I saw. It was probably just, I don't know, a side effect or something, maybe my imagination. She wasn't good enough to craft a spell that interact with my own magic, a curse that was keyed to bind to me and me only. One that would hold up for this long." She had thought about it, and the implications of what she thought she had seen were absurd. She thought highly of her mother's magical ability but to create a spell that fed off its user without any obvious outward symptoms was a tall order.

"Your mother was the first and only student of the Dark Lord himself. He taught her personally over the years, honed her skills, and introduced her to all manner of magic that most would think impossible. It is unlikely but not out of the realm of possibility that he taught her this." He said quietly, trying to impress on her the magnitude of her mother's magical education.

Her face twisted as he spoke, hating the small spark of...something that grew in her chest as he said it. She felt light, imagining all of the things the Dark Lord could have taught her mother. If things had been different, would he have taught her? The magic he must have known, the things she could do with such magic...That was what her mother was preparing her for, she had never said it, but it would make sense. It was respect she realised with disgust. That strange feeling in her chest, she respected her mother, enthralled by the small hint of her accomplishments.

"Fine." she said shortly, pulling the memory out of the bricked up room where it lived in the back of her mind, pushing it towards her Professor.

"I have a present for you dear Cassiopeia" she felt ill as her mother's voice sung through her memory, her skin erupted in gooseflesh. She had been locked in her room for a week as punishment for running away. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved to see her mother or terrified, so desperate for human contact.

The silver ring caught the light just so, she eyed it curiously, sorrow filling her chest. She knew what was coming.

"This will let me find you no matter where you are in the world. So long as you wear this, you will be connected to your mummy. Isn't it beautiful?"

It was beautiful. Her mother did have good taste, and this curse was no exception. She looked at the delicate snakes engraved on the inside, she pulled it back and looked at his mark on the inside. A mark of her destiny.

A Lestrange special she had called it. It truly was a remarkable piece of spell work.

Snape pulled out of her memory, grabbing her wrist to examine it closely.

"It will connect you to her." he murmured, she could see his thoughts racing as he processed her words.

"Yeah, I ran away from her and so this was her way of making sure it would never happen again. She can always find me, well if she were somewhere where one could apparate."

His head jerked as he began pacing once more, a snarl taking form on his face as he thought through the implications. "It's cant be so simple, this magic is pushing into you, its fused to your very essence, it pulses to your heartbeat. Connected to you how? How would she find you?" He was talking more to himself than her, trying to understand her reasoning.

Cassiopeia shrugged hopelessly, unable to offer more insight into the problem. It had been her obsession for years, and she was no closer to answering these questions. She doubted he would solve it in the first half hour with the problem.

"I always assumed this was keyed to some spell, something she could use to find me." She offered, giving him her best guess.

He shook his head and frowned, continuing his pacing.

"Look, this has been fun and all, real blast. Mind if I go to bed, im knackered and i've got double potions tomorrow. The professor is a real git, hates it if his students fall asleep. Something about exploding cauldrons." Her joke fell flat as he glared at her, before finally jerking his head once more, indicating she was dismissed.

Cassiopeia fell into an uneasy slumber, dreaming of her mother in Azkaban.

She was huddled in the corner of her cell, far away from the window where cold water from a storm flew through and away from the entrance, hiding in the shadows. She was curled up into a ball, attempting to salvage what little heat she could in the freezing prison, her forehead pressed against her knees, her eyes closed.

She kept her mind delightfully blank, fighting the dementors and clinging to her sanity. But every now and then, when they were distracted with easier victims, she would think of her daughter, out in the world, ripped away from her mummy. The ring around her finger pulsed in a beat that was separate from her own heart beat, providing the only warmth in the dark and cold prison and she laughed, half mad with glee and amusement as she felt her daughter once again attacking her connection. It was the one piece of jewelry they couldn't take from her when they locked her away. The only way was to cut off her finger, something they considered before deciding it was too much effort. Better she rot in Azkaban, sooner rather than later.

Her sweet Cassie had strayed far in the absence of her mummy. It was to be expected, she had always been a strong willed little witch, a true Black. But she would guide her, one day, when this hell was over. She would show her the way, no matter what it took.

Xxx

Snape never apologised for his behaviour at their last Occlumency lesson and Cassiopeia was too mentally exhausted to really hold it against him. It was alarming, what she saw in the spectacles, the implications of the extent of the spell.

She finished the last page of her independent study, a massive dissertation that was exactly the maximum amount of words allowed for the examination and stretched her stiff neck. Professor Flitwick was going to proofread it one more time before she submitted it to the NEWT examination panel.

It had been a monumental task, not as groundbreaking as she had hoped, but filled with tantalising insights and clues she thought could be built on in the future. She just hoped it was enough to pass, regardless of the confidence Flitwick and Spavin showed, she always doubted. Things rarely worked out for Lestranges.

She also filled out all of her curse breaking applications. Before applying to an apprenticeship program, a prospective curse breaker had to undergo a formal theoretical educational training lasting normally one year and sometimes stretching into several at a programme accredited by the International Confederation of Witches and Wizards. There were three such programmes in the UK, one in Wales, one in the North of England, and a ministry led one in London. She applied to all three. When applying to such programmes it was traditional for the applicant to also submit letters of intent to apprenticeship programmes around the country, so they could prepare for the potential candidate in one year, and follow their career while undertaking their theoretical education. She wrote letters of intent to the hospital, the bank, and the Ministry.

She received the replies a week before her NEWT exams, two unconditional offers for the Northern and Welsh educational institutions, a conditional offer to the London based programme stating she needed to achieve a minimum of five O's on her NEWTs. Her letters of intent were well received with two unconditional offers of apprenticeship to St Mungos and Gringotts. The ministry invited her to interview for an apprenticeship upon the successful completion of the year long theoretical programme.

Five O's would be tough, she was only taking six exams plus her independent study. Tough but not impossible. Her weakest spot was potions, where she worried she wouldn't be able to pass with more than an A, and her independent study caused her all sorts of stress.

But she was determined. She doubled down on the studying in that final week, cursing the fact that seventh year students took their examinations a full week before the rest of the student population, giving her less time to study. The reasoning behind this was NEWTS took longer to process and the results needed to be available sooner for post Hogwarts educational programmes.

Professor Snape gave her the week off of her occlumency lessons so she could study and she wasted no time begging him for last minute potions tips, which he reluctantly gave her more out of pity than anything.

The Sunday before the exams found her in Professor Quirrell's office having a rather pleasant conversation. She figured she had done all the studying she could and needed to relax, and who better than with her favourite Professor. She had long grown use to his strange anxiety and stutter that made others laugh and taunt him. She recognised that most of her success and knowledge had come from this man, strange as he was, and she owed him a great debt for taking her seriously in her first year.

He was unusually calm during their chat, reminiscing the past seemed to put him at ease as long as he wasn't thinking about his disastrous grand tour. His hands still shook slightly, and his face held a nervous twitch, but his stutter was nearly nonexistent.

"I-uh-I must say Miss Tonks, I will be sorry to see you leave this school. In all my years I have never come across a student as motivated and eager to learn a-as yourself." he gave her a small smile, taking a sip of his tea.

"Well in my defence sir, I had to find some way to make up for the massive points loss I caused my house over the years. I am happy you managed to get the Defence post, you were a brilliant teacher sir, much better suited to that than Muggle Studies."

"Yes. Another subject you excelled in, an easy NEWT for you I would have guessed. Tell me, your father is muggle born correct? Was it him who taught you so much about the muggle world?"

She winced at the term. Though technically correct, Ted Tonks was not her father and it was strange to think of him as such. He was just Ted. "Er-no actually. I uh lived in the muggle world for a few years, before coming to Hogwarts." she answered hesitantly, reluctantly recalling her time at the orphanages.

"O-oh. O-of course. I suppose that was a-after, the uh, a-after.." he trailed off, looking mildly ill as he realised the hole he had dug himself into. She took pity on the poor professor, answering his question despite its uncomfortable nature.

"After my parents were arrested yes. I had no family to take me in, the Tonks' had disappeared years earlier into hiding, and well the Malfoy's had their own problems. So they sent me to a muggle orphanage until it was time to start my career at Hogwarts." She kept her tone dry and emotionless, looking completely unbothered about the rather personal turn of the conversation.

"S-so s-sorry to hear that Miss T-Tonks. I t-travelled a bit with a wizard who was r-raised in a muggle o-orphanage, while on t-tour. Hopefully your e-experience is nothing like h-his was." His stutter returning in full force as he spoke about his trip.

She raised an eyebrow, curious about another wizard living in the muggle world in conditions like her. "I hope his experience was much better than mine, some muggles can be rather er let's say difficult."

"W-well now that you are of a-age, you can always go b-back and show them." He joked, letting out a nervous laugh as his eye twitched, taking another hasty sip of his tea.

She laughed politely, "funny sir, but of course, that is definitely against the law. It wouldn't take much for them to arrest me. My dear adopted sister would just love the opportunity, as she always reminds me at awkward family functions."

"Y-yes, I remember. She is an a-auror cadet correct? Are you c-close?"

She shrugged, thinking about Dora sadly, "No. we had a falling out a few years ago, and she still hasn't gotten over it. I'm not sure she ever will."

He frowned at her sadly, leaning over to refill her cup, "That must be hard, f-fighting with f-family."

"B-but would you? I-if you could without c-consequences? Confront the m-muggles who raised you?" he asked once more, his left eye twitching again.

"Er, no consequences? I guess I would make sure that they wouldn't be able to have children in their care anymore. But that's obviously a hypothetical situation, I would never attack muggles, even ones who deserved it" she laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. Quirrell laughed as well, a short burst as he fumbled with his tea cup.

"O-obviously."

She shrugged again, uncomfortable with the somber mood the conversation was putting her in, "So tell me about this wizard you met on your travels? Did you travel together for a while? Did you fight ghouls or some such together? What's the story there."

His face twitched again, another nervous tick she noticed when she asked probing question about his trip. He normally changed the subject, but for once he was forthcoming, looking a little pale as he spoke, his tone quiet and even, most of his stutter disappearing once more. "H-he was remarkable. I think you would have gotten on with him. W-we travelled together for some t-time. He was someone i was l-looking for, a w-wizard of some local renown. H-he taught me so much, t-things I didn't dream were p-possible."

She smiled at him, happy that he seemed to have made a friend along the way, "Sounds like a great guy to be with, and he grew up in an orphanage."

"Y-yes, his whole life. I-if youre i-interested, m-maybe at the end of the t-term, I could i-introduce you." he looked terrified at the possibility, she assumed he was afraid of going back to wherever they met in the field.

"Sure, we can swap war stories im sure, what sort of magic did he teach you."

"M-mainly theoretical defence, s-some interesting b-branches. Y-you would have enjoyed."

"Brilliant, if all goes well then perhaps this summer if you're up for it. Invite him to London." She grinned, curious about this wizard. He just nodded, looking slightly relieved that it would be in a country he was at least familiar with.

They chatted more, about her coursework, her future plans, and her exam anxiety. Quirrell was not the best at social interactions, but she found his stuttering and stilted conversation almost soothing in the run up to the most important week of her life so far.

When they finally ran out of tea and topics, he walked her to her office door, stopping her just before she left. "You are a remarkable witch Miss Tonks, you are bursting with potential, and I look forward to seeing you grow in the coming years. You are going to do just fine on your exams, and you'll do your parents proud." His face was red as he said it, his eye twitching and only making sporadic eye contact, something that lessened his message slightly. But coming from Quirrell, it was the most touching and sincere thing she had ever heard him say to her.

"Thank you Professor. And I owe a large part of it to you. Thank you for listening to some stupid keen first year and teaching me so much." she almost wanted to hug the man, before deciding against it. It was ridiculous, she would see him again.

The week was a blur of examinations and stress, she was challenged to the point of breaking, and there were several moment where she wanted to cry in frustration. But as friday came she finally did it, she finished her last exam and was ready to take the nap of the century and celebrate in solitude.

Therefore it was a rude shock to be awoken from her nap by the only dorm mate she tolerated, an asian girl named Asha who informed her that Professor Snape wanted her to report to his office immediately.

"He looked livid too, what did you do Lestrange?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

Cassiopeia was confused and groggy, trying to think of what rules she had broken lately. Shrugging at her housemate she decided that keeping an angry Snape waiting was probably not a great idea and reluctantly rolled out of bed and trudged to his office.

"Sit. Down." he demanded when she walked in, the seriousness in his voice shocking her awake, and the rage setting her on edge.

"Tell me every conversation you have ever had with Professor Quirrell." he demanded sharply, taking a few swipes at her mental barriers.

"You woke me up from my post examination victory nap for more questions about Quirrell." she grouched in irritation, stretching in her chair and thinking that her head of house was the most petty person in the school.

"Professor Quirrell is dead." he said simply. She stopped mid stretch, staring at him in shock.

"What do you mean dead? I just spoke to him last week." she gaped, horrified

"What did you discuss?"

"How? What? How does someone just die?" she ignored his question,

"People die every day. Answer my question Miss Tonks."

"When? At Hogwarts?"

"Professor Quirrell was attempting to steal a highly valuable magical object that was hidden in the school while the headmaster was away on urgent business. He was stealing the object for the Dark Lord, it was something that would return him to power." his voice was low and urgent as he gave her the bare bones of the situation.

Cassiopeia stared at him in open mouth shock, unable to process anything he was saying.

"What killed him?" she asked finally, her voice hoarse as she repeated what he said in her head, trying to find any other meaning.

"He was unsuccessful in his goal and died in the process" he growled, rage flashing across his face once now. "Now, that is all I am going to say. I need to know every conversation you ever had with him over the past year. Starting with last week."

"Quirrell was a death eater?" she asked, sitting back in shock, her mind racing through all of their conversations.

"No. He wasn't. If you are unable to tell me your conversations, then show me." he insisted, growing more impatient with his student.

"You know, I think you are getting a little too comfortable in my head sir," she remarked sarcastically, already searching her memories for the relevant ones.

"Mainly because you appear to be incapable of answering simple and straightforward questions, regardless of how many times they are asked."

She shrugged, pulling the memories forward, searching them herself for any clues to his loyalty, feeling slightly queasy. "You don't think, he uh, was trying to recruit me do you?" she voiced her fears. The Professor remained silent, his eyebrows raised, his wand in hand ready to examine her mind.

"Legilimens." he muttered diving into the memories she pulled for him.

He flicked through most of them impatiently, pausing only on one moment earlier in the term. The book he lent her, the one filled with a ridiculous amount of black magic. She felt his irritation echoing across her mind as he continued rapidly going through the contents of her memories. He paused at her last meeting with Quirrell, slowing it down and examining it closely before pulling out of her head and stalking over to his fireplace.

"We are going to the headmaster right now."

She balked, staying firmly in her seat, staring at her head of house with wide eyes. "Why? Why can you just fill him in on all the information like you always do."

He rolled his eyes, "there are things you need to know, that I am not equipped to explain to you." he said simply.

"That isn't helping sir. I don't want to know. I already know too much." she felt ill, he had wanted to introduce her to a wizard he had travelled with. That was their last conversation, they had even set up tentative plans. Was it him?

"You are being childish, either come to his office or he will come here. Your choice."

She reluctantly followed Snape through the floo to face the man she feared nearly as much as she feared the Dark Lord. In a lot of ways she feared him more, which she found fairly depressing.

The headmaster looked old as he sorted through a small mound of paperwork, before turning to his visitors.

"Ah Severus, I see you brought Miss Tonks. So you have news then?"

Snape looked at his student, jerking his head, "Show him." he said simply.

She gaped at him once more, paling as she looked between the two men. "No. I mean, why cant I tell him?"

"Do you know what is significant about your memories?" he asked pointedly.

"No, but you apparently do, why don't you tell him?"

He growled, "this would all be so much easier if you just listened to me for once Lestrange."

"I just think you're being unreasonable sir, I can barely tolerate you in my head, but him-" she looked at the headmaster, her eyes wide with fear, before glancing at at her teacher.

A few of the portraits shifted in their frames, tutting the rudeness of the student, a few calling down to her to obey her elders. What did they know anyways.

"Perhaps you should tell me the pertinent information Severus." the headmaster said, watching the two fight in amusement.

"He gave her a book in French depicting extremely dark and violent magic. Something she failed to report to anyone else, despite being curious about the contents and instead read it cover to cover before returning it." He snarled, his lip curling as he looked at the girl who was shrinking in her seat, her face red.

"I mean, you just made that sound worse than it actually was sir. He gave me the book because it had some French runes that were similar to an, uh well a project of mine. I just thought that maybe he had forgotten at the book was filled with such er questionable themes. Knowing him, even flipping through some of those pages would have given him nightmares."

"20 points for reading banned material Miss Tonks." Snape hissed, "especially material as graphic as that one had been. That book was probably illegal, and never once when I asked you if he was acting peculiar did you think to mention it."

She shrugged, folding in on herself defensively, glaring at the man.

"And the last conversation however is the most alarming headmaster. Lestrange, show him."

"No!" she protested, she didn't want Dumbledore in her head. Not again.

"Miss Tonks are you familiar with a pensive?" he asked her politely, pointedly ignoring the eye roll from Professor Snape.

She shrugged, looking anywhere but his face, not wanting to be taken by surprise.

"It is a wonderful object that allows me to view the memories of others, without going into their minds. If you could be so kind as to extract the memory, perhaps I can examine it that way."

She fidgeted in her chair, weighing her options. "Is it true? Was he really trying to bring Him back?" she asked finally, her voice low, her face pale with terror.

"Yes." the headmaster confirmed her fears. She reluctantly nodded, listening to his instruction and pulling the memory out of her head and handing it over to the headmaster, who promptly examined it in his pensive.

He looked at her with pity when he emerged from her memory, carefully giving it back to her, allowing her to put it back in its rightful spot.

"How could he be working for the Dark Lord? How is that even possible? He's dead." she asked, finding the silence unbearable.

"Miss Tonks, what I am about to tell you is a secret known to very few. One I would appreciate would remain so, for as long as possible." Dumbledore started, gazing at her carefully.

"Lord Voldemort is alive and out there somewhere. Professor Quirrell was more than Voldemort's servant. He housed him in his own body, Voldemort was a parasite that was with him always."

She flinched at the sound of his name, instinctively snarling at the sound. It took her a few second to move beyond the shock of hearing his name and actually understanding what the professor was saying.

"So when he was talking to himself…" she wondered, her heart dropping and her stomach turning.

"He was likely talking to Voldemort."

"And his stutter, his nervous ticks?"

"All a clever ruse to throw suspicion off himself." Dumbledore said patiently.

"And that wizard he wanted me to meet, all that stuff he said…" she paled further, regretting the celebratory junk food she ate after her last exam.

"Likely was Voldemort. He was likely fishing for your support, planning on bringing him back successfully."

"But why? Why even risk talking to me?" she asked faintly, her body filled with terror.

She had always thought that he wasn't dead, he was too powerful, it had been too convenient, too unbelievable that a mere child could defeat such a powerful wizard and this proved it. The Dark Lord was out there somewhere, weak and desperate, but waiting, biding his time. And he knew about her, had seen her, had followed her for a year. Did he expect her to come to his aid now? Or did he think she didn't know?

"Do you really need to ask that question?" Drawled Snape, giving his student a sharp sideways look.

"He owns me. I was a gift to him." she whispered, barely audible to the others in the room, her eyes wide with fear and horror.

"His plans were foiled and he had fled once more, none the wiser to your knowledge." Professor Dumbledore started, trying to comfort the terrified young woman in front of him.

"He didn't confide in you Cassiopeia, he doesn't expect you to go to him. How could he? You are safe for now." Snape added lowly, trying to calm his students fears.

"For now." she repeated hollowly, "But he's out there. Someone else will find him, he'll get them to help and it'll start all over." She anxiously spun her bracelet across her wrist, her fingers occasionally tracing the Dark Mark etched on the inside face.

"Nothing you can do for now. It took him ten years to get to this point. Perhaps it will be another eleven before he is strong enough to try again." Snape tried to reassure her.

She answered a few more questions to the headmaster before she was thankfully released to go back to her own dormitory. She heard the whispers already spreading through the halls, Professor Quirrell was dead. He had tried to steal something important in the school. Harry Potter had stopped him.

It was all Harry Potter's fault, she decided. If he hadn't been at the school, then none of this would have happened. It had been ten peaceful years in his absence, and now suddenly the Boy Who Lived appeared and the Dark Lord was returning.

She slept fitfully that night, unable to take any real joy out of the remaining school year, so focussed on Him.

She thought back to advice Snape had given her once, when he saw her boggart. She might as well enjoy as much of her life and freedom as she could, forging as many experiences and memories as possible before he returned. He had been sceptical then that he would truly returned, but now she knew it was only a matter of time.

She could spend that time preparing for his arrival, or she could live as much as she could, being as free as possible. The dark future looming also brought on a strange introspection, Cassiopeia thought long and hard about the relationships she had in life, and mourned the ones she had damaged beyond repair. She had no real friends at Hogwarts, and strained relationships with nearly everyone else in her life, and she was the only one to blame for it. She felt regret keenly, and tried to think of ways to make amends to her broken relationships, starting first with her adopted family.

She was living on borrowed time, and she didn't want to waste any more of it.

She was afraid of what the future would bring, but she was determined to enjoy it as much as she could before things changed for the worst.

She smiled at all the appropriate times at her graduation, hugging both Andromeda and Ted who had come to see her graduate from the school. She posed for a picture with a rather reluctant Professor Snape, who scowled into the camera, and took another picture with Professor Flitwick, whose grin split his face nearly in two. She avoided Professor Dumbledore, finding an excuse to congratulate someone when he approached the Tonks couple. She smiled at her old friend, Constance Green and Daniel Jones, and glared at Matilda Cook and Arlene Roberts, relishing the fact that she probably wouldn't have to see them again for a very long time.

She laughed at all of Ted's jokes and enjoyed the after graduation meal, she had even stayed at their house in her old room for the night, keen to see her adopted sister in the morning and wish her well with whatever training she was undertaking. Dora had been less than keen to see her in the morning, and very suspicious when she tried wishing her well with her coursework, which she admittedly understood.

She met with the Malfoys in Diagon Alley, celebrating her graduation with them reluctantly. They didn't ask about the events going on at Hogwarts and she wondered how much they knew. She evaded the questions about her future and her current living situation, not wanting to encourage her uncle Lucius to meddle where he wasn't wanted.

She was alone when she received her NEWT results. She wasn't as nervous as she thought she would be, knowing that if she had totally failed she still had an unconditional offers. With only the barest hint of trepidation she opened her letter and flipped it open, her eyes greedily scanning the results.

Charms ...O

Transfiguration ...O

Defence Against the Dark Arts...O

Independent Study...O

Potions...E

Arithmancy...O

Ancient Runes...O

She did it. She bloody well did it. She poured herself a drink and savoured her success in her flat, looking out at the muggle world below her.

Professor Flitwick wrote her, informing her that her independent study had been anonymously nominated for an award issued by the experimental charms committee for the best up and coming research of the year. Mr Spavin wrote to congratulate her once more and informing her that if she was interested in splitting her study between the bank and the hospital, he had a provisional proposal for it.

She sat in a happy glow that was enhanced slightly from her drink, surrounded by only good news.

Sure, the Dark Lord was out there, somewhere. But for once, things were going in the right direction for this Lestrange, and she wasn't about to spoil it.

She had a bright future ahead of her, and she was going to enjoy it if it bloody well killed her.

 _A/N_

 _And its bloody well done! I cant believe it! sorry for the long update time, but I wanted to get this chapter out as I launch the first chapter of Part III so you all could go and read that and give it a follow. I will be updating Part III, at least in the beginning a bit slower, as ive got a lot of random bits written, but nothing cohesive. I mainly wanted just something to have up and published in time with this last chapter._

 _Thank you all for reading, and a few people who commented regularly/ semi regularly have my eternal gratitude. If you enjoyed the story on a whole, or hated it, or felt ambivalent towards it, please leave a review. I could greatly appreciate it, and it really does go a long way to help motivate me to keep writing and keep pushing on. And seeing as this is the last chapter for this part, I would appreciate it even more._

 _Click on my name to check out Part III, give it a follow, and I promise i'll update as quickly as humanly possible (ive just moved, gotten a new full time job, and am finally settling down into a regular schedule, which gives some time to write.)_

 _Peace_

 _Tibys_


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